


Don't You Want Me

by Quixoticity



Series: Don't You Want Me [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Burt Hummel death (several years prior), Eventual Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hubris, M/M, alternative universe, asshole! Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:11:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 94,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7952878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixoticity/pseuds/Quixoticity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine Anderson's plans of a life spent performing were derailed in his senior year, and he had to compromise on everything he'd dreamed of - except love. </p>
<p>Kurt Hummel, haughty and aloof Broadway darling, was forced to come back to Ohio where there was nothing left for him but painful memories - until he noticed a pair of fine eyes.</p>
<p>(Pride & Prejudice inspired, but set in present day)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**One**

‘Dude, this is gonna be so awesome! I can’t believe I’m finally gonna meet her!’ Sam bounced across the room to check his hair in the mirror again, smoothing it back behind his ears. He wondered briefly if he should have kept the ponytail. He’d thought it looked totally hot, but Blaine had refused to move in with him until he cut it off, and he figured it was worth the sacrifice when he’d managed to persuade Blaine to ditch the gel at the same time. _For the greater good…_ he thought, casting a glance at Blaine’s tousled curls in the mirror.

Blaine sat down on the edge of his bed, and folded his hands. ‘Look, Sam…this is going to be a great party. We’re gonna go and dance with our buddies and have a good time. If she’s there, then fantastic. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if she’s not. We’ll still have the best time, ok?’

‘I know, man. I’m just psyched to even have the chance to meet her. I know she’s not your type,’ Sam shot Blaine a wink, ‘but she’s _incredible_. I mean, _the_ Mercedes Jones, man!’  


Blaine rolled his eyes a little but couldn’t hold back a smile. Sam had crushed on Mercedes Jones since he’d seen her in Dream Girls on Broadway the year before. 

He stood up, smoothing down his pants. ‘Alright Casanova, here’s the deal – you go put on chapstick for the four hundredth time, I’ll put on my spiffiest dancing shoes, and we’ll get out of here and go to this fabulous party. When we get there either Mercedes Jones will be there and she’ll of course fall hopelessly in love with you and you’ll live happily ever after, or she won’t be and you and I will get drunk and fall down a lot.’

‘You, Blaine Anderson, have got yourself a deal!’ Sam span around and caught Blaine’s hand in a high five. ‘BLAM!’ He headed to the bathroom to grab his chapstick, muttering ‘It’s party time! P-A-R-T-why? Because I GOTTA!’ He span around and did finger guns at Blaine as he backed out of the room.

Blaine laughed at his officially _ridiculous_ roommate, and went to grab his shoes. He understood why Sam was so excited – his own stomach was full of butterflies, too. The party was initially supposed to be a standard annual reunion of their old glee club with assorted partners, but then the host, Sugar, had managed to persuade her ex, Artie, and a couple of other glee alumni from five or six years prior to come too, and before they knew it rumours were flying that rising superstars Mercedes Jones, Quinn Fabray and Kurt Hummel were going to be there. Blaine had been a secret Kurt Hummel fan-boy since he was about seventeen, when Mr Schue had played them endless videos of New Directions from years past, including Kurt absolutely killing ‘Defying Gravity’ (which seemed highly appropriate given the swoop of his immaculately styled hair). His ‘Likes Boys’ t shirt hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Blaine had followed his career path with interest, from McKinley High to NYADA, to off-Broadway and beyond. He allowed himself a small, rueful sigh. Once upon a time he had dreamed of emulating his success. 

Sam was determined to make the most of his unexpected opportunity to dazzle Mercedes with his killer impressions. Blaine was hoping she would see past that to the sweet, lovely guy that he was – or at least be kind to him if she wasn’t interested, although he didn’t see how she could resist those shoulders and that pout… He shook his head free of those thoughts. He and Sam had been best friends for years, and although it was no secret Blaine thought Sam was super-hot, he had long since been free of any romantic aspirations where his tragically straight best friend was concerned. They were practically brothers.

Sam stuck his head around the bedroom door. ‘You ready to go, dude? Kitty and Lauren are actually ready to leave on time and I’m feeling lucky tonight! Mercedes Jones won’t be able to resist the allure of White Chocolate!’ Sam did one of his famous body rolls which made Blaine snort with laughter. He bumped Blaine’s shoulder with one of his own. ‘And hey, you never know – maybe we’ll both get lucky tonight, huh?’

Blaine smiled back, but honestly, he was happy as he was. His life hadn’t been a meteoric ascent to fame and fortune in the big city, but he was in his last year of his degree in Musical Education at OSU, he was living with some of his best friends, and life was pretty good. In quiet moments he admitted to himself that he still hoped for more, even if he no longer expected to get it. His plans for college had been derailed by his family going bankrupt in his senior year, forcing him to stay close to home to be close to his mother who had never really recovered from the shock of it. His father was as distant and sarcastic as he had been since Blaine had come out aged fourteen, fairly civil but emotionally absent.

Having witnessed the comfortable life he’d always known crumble, Blaine re-considered his chosen career in performing in favour of something safer and more stable. He had found a job in a nearby music store, and worked his way through college. He had found to his delight that he adored his degree. It was one of the top programs nationally, and he loved working with children. He got to make music and help people; it was perfect. He’d managed to get a scholarship which made it possible for him to house-share with four of his best friends. Leaving the oppressive tension of his parents’ tiny apartment was a revelation, even if he was only a bus ride away. He finally felt like he could breathe. 

His dreams of a handsome boyfriend, and a life full of romance and music in New York would probably go unfulfilled. But he was mature enough to realise that life wasn’t a fairy tale, and teenage dreams don’t always come true. It didn’t mean his life couldn’t still be fantastic, even if he had to make compromises sometimes. Over the years he had come to terms with not being able to afford his beloved Brooks Brothers clothes, and taking home-made coffee in a travel mug to class with him instead of going to the campus coffee shop. He took the bus instead of running a car, and budgeted down to the cent. He was organised, and determined, and with the help of his friends he was making it work. He refused to compromise on love, though. He’d dated Mr Wrong, Mr All-Wrong and Mr What-Was-I-Thinking, and he’d had enough unsatisfying hook-ups to realise that he was an old-fashioned soul, looking for one special guy. _My missing puzzle piece…_ he thought, before snorting indelicately at himself. _Now who’s being ridiculous…_ He slung his jacket over his shoulder and grabbed his keys. Somehow he didn’t think the odds of finding his one true love at this particular party full of divas and drama queens were all that high.


	2. Two

Kurt Hummel was in hell. 

He stood ram-rod straight, his back against the wall, holding a gently sweating glass of some sort of neon cocktail with a little umbrella in it. He tilted his head back to rest against the wall as he surveyed the room, noting the garish disco lights and red plastic cups, and the suspicious stains on the carpet. A table full of food in varying shades of beige turned his stomach. He sighed deeply. He really was past these provincial gatherings in Backwater, Ohio. It would all have seemed like such a big deal ten years ago, but now _he_ was the big deal, and this party sucked. He longed for the parties he’d become used to in New York, immaculately styled and catered and full of interesting people and fashion (last week he'd met Sarah Jessica Parker for chrissakes, and they had talked about shoes for the greatest seven and a half minutes of his _life_ ).

Mercedes, his wing-woman, was the only other interesting person here, and she had given in to some blond guy’s advances and had gone to dance. He shook his head. A guy would have to bring more than a few terrible impressions to the table to get his attention, even if he was, admittedly, gorgeous, with his shiny hair and muscled frame. 

Even the karaoke sucked. A room full of mediocre Glee alumni really couldn't compare to Callbacks, or a sing-off among a cast full of Broadway talent. He rolled his eyes as a statuesque girl wearing a milk-bottle glasses and a shirt with ‘I’d Rather Throw Ya Than Know Ya’ emblazoned on it murdered ‘I Know What Boys Like’, accompanied by whoops and cheers from the crowd. Had she really been in Glee Club? God she was just awful. His jaw opened slightly when he noticed Noah Puckerman, whom he hadn’t seen in years, get up on the low stage, bow down to the girl and press dramatic kisses up her arm. _Pathetic._ At least the girl had enough sense to give him a withering look and a casual wedgie before striding from the stage, Puck hobbling behind her like a groupie shouting 'Marry me, Zizes!'. Seemed like Glee Club was still drama, no matter how old they all got. 

He determinedly avoided eye contact with everyone, except to give his best bitch glare to anyone who tried to talk to him. He had been dragged here against his will and he was determined not to enjoy it one bit. He took another sip of his cocktail and shuddered as the acrid alcohol slid down his throat. The host of the party, some relentlessly loud girl named Sugar, really needed to take lessons from some of the bartenders in New York. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that everything was better in New York. He’d known that even before he moved there.

‘Hey boo!’ Mercedes gave him a bright smile as she settled back in beside him, grabbing his drink to take a sip.

‘Mercedes, I am in hell.’ He turned his head to look at her and then slowly closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I am in hell, and you have _fucked off_ , Mercedes, what is with that?!’

‘I’m just having a good time, Kurt. Wouldn’t kill you to give it a try yourself, you know?’

Kurt’s eyebrow arched incredulously. ‘Have a good time? Here?!’

Mercedes giggled as she downed the rest of his drink. ‘Yes! Kurt, it’s fun! There’s music, food, and there are so many cute boys here!’

‘No, my love. No no no no no. It is not fun. It is _awful._ And there are exactly NO cute boys here, unless you count the one you’ve been dancing with all night, and judging by the way his jaw is on the floor whenever he’s near you I think it’s safe to say he’s straight.’

Mercedes swooned against him, playfully. ‘Oh yeah, Sam…’ she sighed dreamily, ‘he is gorgeous isn’t he?’

Kurt inclined his head fractionally in acquiescence. 

‘But Kurt, there are other hot guys here! What about Sam’s friend over there? He’s awfully cute, too, and gay, according to Sam. And he can dance!’

‘’Cedes,’ Kurt drawled, ‘any savage can dance.’ He reluctantly followed her gaze to a guy a few feet away, taking in his dark curls and broad shoulders in one brief glance. He wrinkled his nose minutely at the dark jeans and casual sweater that fit well but were otherwise basically the uniform of every generic college student everywhere. Very little effort, no flair at all, and a high likelihood that he was trying to look as straight as possible, in Kurt’s opinion. 

He shrugged. ‘He’s alright, I suppose.’

Mercedes lifted her eyebrows. ‘Kurt, just talk to the guy. You’ve got the New Directions in common, you’re both cute, what’s the worst that could happen?’

Kurt huffed. _Really? Mercedes thought the best he could do was this guy?_ ‘Just leave it, ok?’

‘But, Kurt – ‘

‘Mercedes! I’m not interested in Sam’s little friend – _little_ being the operative word! I’m catching more than a whiff of the closet about him, and even if I wasn’t, look at him, he’s barely even made an effort and in case you have forgotten I have made a career out of being _fabulous_! Do you really think he’s special enough to tempt me?’

‘Kurt!’ Mercedes gasped and hushed him, and he suddenly realised there was a lull in the music and his voice was carrying further than he’d meant it to. 

Kurt noticed the boy’s head turn towards him, and for the first time saw his eyes, which were wide and golden-brown with unfairly lovely eyelashes, and ok he was sort of cute. The boy’s mouth was open fractionally and Kurt suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He squashed the traitorous thought down immediately. The golden eyes held his for a moment, and then seemed to begin to dance in amusement as the boy covered his mouth to hide a laugh, and then leaned in to his taller friend – Sam – to whisper something in his ear.

Sam turned to Kurt, too, his mouth dropping open, then he looked back to Blaine who raised his eyebrows (his weird, triangle eyebrows that were _definitely_ not cute at all, even a little bit, Kurt huffed to himself), and then they both dissolved into giggles, shooting him little glances. A tall guy joined them and after a few seconds of whispering he looked at Kurt too, apparently annoyed, until the shorter boy with the curls tugged on his hand and said something that made him laugh.

Kurt’s stomach twisted darkly. It’s not like he was a stranger to people whispering about him and laughing at him when he was in Ohio. He looked away sharply and glared at the corner of the room. The music started up again, something with a low, sexy beat that he could feel thrumming through the soles of his feet, feeding his anxiety, making it seem like his heart was vibrating in his chest. He straightened his posture. _Hummel men never show weakness._

Sam walked back up to Mercedes and extended an arm, which she took, happily, and he twirled her off to dance, shooting a dirty look at Kurt over her shoulder. 

It was then that he noticed Sam’s dark-haired friends pass him, within touching distance because of the crowd of people. 

‘I don’t know, Blaine,’ the taller one announced loudly, with a pointed glance at Kurt, ‘I guess I’ll dance with you, but if I decide you’re not _special_ enough for all this fabulousness,’ he did an exaggerated flourish down at himself, ‘then I’m afraid I’ll be leaving you to get me some of this very attractive wall, here.’

Shit. As Kurt had suspected, he’d been overheard. Guilt flashed over him, hot and sickly. He leaned his head back against the cool wall, and concentrated on keeping his game face on. He was Kurt Hummel, Broadway darling. He wasn’t about to be embarrassed by random kids at some sticky party full of wannabes.

The shorter guy – Blaine – laughed, and yeah, he actually was very pretty with his perfect smile and his spectacular butt (and god, why couldn’t Kurt have seen that before he’d loudly insulted him). He smiled and ducked his head, but then made sure to meet Kurt’s eyes as he said, in a lovely deep tenor voice that sort of did things to Kurt’s insides, ‘Oh, I daresay I shall bear the deprivation.’

Then he pulled his friend on to the dance floor, and started to dance in an unselfconscious way involving shimmying and wiggling and pouting, and if Kurt hadn’t been in hell before he definitely was now. After a song or two a small blonde girl came and slipped an arm around Blaine’s waist and said something into his ear, which made him burst into giggles and shoot Kurt another glance. He shook his head laughingly but the girl pulled him up onto the stage with the karaoke machine, and familiar chords started to play. They launched into a tipsy version of ‘Don’t You Want Me’, shamelessly flirting with each other and the crowd. A tiny part of Kurt had to grudgingly admit that Blaine was actually an excellent performer, although he still seemed to play the ‘straight guy’ card a little too much for Kurt’s liking. 

Except then Blaine sang the chorus basically straight at him, clutching his chest melodramatically, flashing him mischievous grins. He made sure to make eye contact when he sang _‘You know I can’t believe it when I hear that you won’t see me’_ and then fucking _winked_ , and Kurt knew he was being thoroughly made fun of. Kurt had to employ all of his NYADA acting training to keep his face impassive, chin tipped up haughtily. He folded his arms across his chest. _Who even winks these days, anyway?_ This was Mercedes' fault, he decided. He hadn't wanted to come in the first place, he had known it would be an ordeal, but she had forced him and now look - he was being hate-serenaded. It was completely mortifying, Kurt thought. Mortifying and cheesy... and sort of hot. _Well, fuck_. 

The echo of his words about Blaine rang round in his head, and he could feel the flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks, embarrassment and shame settling uncomfortably into his stomach, heavy and aching. He settled his eyes on the ceiling and counted down the seconds until he could leave this party, Lima, Ohio and everything in it, behind. He’d worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get to where he was in New York. He was finally being celebrated for who he was and getting the roles he’d dreamed of after years of rejection. He had beautiful, immaculate men throwing themselves at him every day. And soon he would go back to it and forget this debacle had ever happened. He wasn’t all that proud of what he’d said about Blaine, but it didn’t change the fact that was right. He was better than all this. And he definitely wasn’t interested in the boy with the curls, who was clearly the sort of irritating alpha gay who aimed to be ambiguous enough in his sexuality to steal all the leading roles and perpetuate the stereotypical perception of what a sexy male lead should be, he thought resentfully. Not that that meant he thought Blaine was sexy. Not at all. He just had nice eyes, that’s all. He sighed deeply, and checked his watch again. He shot off a text to Chandler to ask him to come and pick him up a.s.a.p. He needed a face mask and a glass of (decent) wine. He flicked his gaze to the stage where Blaine, the tall guy and Puck were doing a borderline obscene rendition of 'Hot for Teacher', and his jaw involuntarily fell open. _Oh dear lord..._ Kurt murmured to himself. He was going to need to make that two glasses of wine...


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and general awesomeness! (It's totally a word.)

Blaine and Sam staggered home in the early hours, pleasantly buzzed from Sugar’s dubious cocktails. They were propping each other up like playing cards, singing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ at the tops of their voices. Kitty and Lauren followed behind, close enough to occasionally shout affectionately abusive things at them but far enough to avoid being trampled – or god forbid, vomited – on. Blaine didn’t know what they were worried about; he and Sam were _awesome_ at walking. Maybe the best in the world. They turned up their street and began their ‘Gallileos’ enthusiastically, pausing only to congratulate each other on how awesome they sounded. When one of their neighbours opened a window and threw a shoe at them, screeching something about ‘damn fools’ and ‘shenanigans’, Sam merely took a deep bow and shouted back ‘MAGNIFICO-O-O-O-O’ and then ran to take refuge on their porch as the other shoe whizzed by his head, whimpering ‘I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me!’. Blaine could barely stand for laughing so hard. Truly, they were the best at singing, and walking, and shenanigans. They were, they were… he groped for just the right word. Ah yes! _Awesome._

He looped his arm through Sam’s again and together they stumbled up the steps and through the front door, before realising how very, very tired they were, and sinking into a heap together in the hallway. Kitty and Lauren stepped over them with exasperated sighs, rolled their eyes in scary unison, and headed to their rooms. Lauren stuck her head back around her door-frame to threaten them with excruciating pain in tender places should they decide to do an encore. Blaine huffed. What did she know. He and Sam were _awesome._

‘M’cold, Sam.’ He shifted uncomfortably on the tiled floor.

‘Ooh, I can totally help!’ Sam fumbled in his pockets for a minute and produced several small boxes which he poked at unproductively. 

‘Blaine…’ he mumbled. The ‘Bl’ part of Blaine’s name seemed to be giving him some trouble. 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘I have a problem…’

‘Mmm?’

Sam’s brow furrowed as he gave a heartfelt sigh, and Blaine sat up slightly, worried something was actually wrong. 

‘I scored like eight boxes of matches from the bar, but I think they might be duds.’ Sam brandished one of the offending sticks sadly in front of Blaine’s face.

Blaine squinted at the box for a second before descending into giggles. ‘Uh, that’s because they’re toothpicks, Sam.’ 

Sam peered at the box. ‘Ohhh. Well that makes so much more sense! Sneaky bastards!’ He glared at the box accusingly and threw it down the hall.

‘What were you going to do, set light to me? S’probably best not to be around naked flames right now, I think those cocktails were half airplane fuel. We could probably raze Columbus to the ground with our breath alone.’

‘Hmm. Okay, maybe not my best plan. Never fear, I shall still be your knight in shining… um, cotton! Forsooth, I have a new and cunning plan! I, brave Sir Sam-a-lot, shall make you into a Blaine burrito!’ 

Blaine squeaked as Sam scooped him up over his shoulder, walked them through into a bedroom and plonked him down on the bed with a friendly slap on the butt, wrapping the comforter over him. Blaine didn’t know whose room it was, and he didn’t particularly care. He was warm and safe, and with his best friend in the world. Sam collapsed onto the bed beside him, face first.

His voice came, muffled through the pillow ‘Blaine? We can make armor out of tin foil tomorrow, right?’

Blaine laughed. ‘Of course we can.’

‘You’re the best, you know that? Totally awesome…’ Sam snuggled down into the pillows, his voice petering out as he faded into sleep, fully dressed and star fished on the bed.

Blaine knew how lucky he was to have a best friend who wasn’t remotely phased by sharing a bed with him. Or cuddling him. Or slapping his butt (Blaine thought the butt slapping was maybe his favourite part of being friends with Sam). This was Ohio, and the party line among Ohio guys was still that homosexuality was a communicable disease, presumably spread by germs that looked like microscopic rainbow-striped disco unicorns. Blaine sighed, remembering Kurt’s upturned nose and the echo of his voice. It figured that, while he was too gay for most of the straight boys at high school and college, he was apparently now not gay _enough_ for the cute gay ones. 

He thought back to how the sight of the famous Kurt Hummel, all blue eyes and flawless skin and pretty mouth, from across the room had momentarily taken his breath away. He’d allowed himself ten seconds of shameless fantasizing about a slow-motion movie moment where Kurt would meet his eyes and be drawn in, violins would spontaneously break into a romantic background melody, and Blaine would take his hand with a smile, and they’d fall hopelessly in love. But then he’d watched as his lovely friend Nick, who nobody could possibly dislike, had tried to talk to him and Kurt had turned to him and _sneered_ like a real life Ebeneezer Scrooge. Blaine’s stomach had plummeted as he realised what sort of a man Kurt Hummel was. He’d been proven right repeatedly as Kurt snarked and sulked his way through the evening, sighing and checking his watch, only deigning to talk to Mercedes (who was thankfully just as lovely as Sam had hoped). 

And then he had heard Kurt’s high, clear voice ring out over the room, caught in the middle of some sort of Sue Sylvester-esque tantrum that inexplicably seemed to be centred on Blaine and his many inadequacies. He had stood, shocked, before turning to look him in the eyes. He realised he had a split second to make a choice. He could get upset and confront Kurt, which, in time-honoured Glee club history would almost certainly result in a diva-off - and then there would be a Whitney Houston battle and tears and angst and possibly glitter cannons which always meant so much vacuuming, and ugh. Or he could do what he did best: suck it up and put his show face on. 

The second he met Kurt’s eyes the decision was made. The sight of the boy who had been the object of some of his most romantic (and deliciously explicit) teen fantasies standing there like a sullen toddler, with his arms crossed and his nose in the air, turning Blaine down for being _too straight_ suddenly struck Blaine as ridiculous. Hilariously ridiculous. 

Blaine was fairly good natured, quick to smile and laugh. He got enough male (and female) interest to be reasonably confident he wasn’t a hideous troll, and he was actually a perfectly average height, thank you _very_ much. If Kurt Hummel wanted to write him off because of his jeans and some misplaced sense of superiority, well that was his loss. It was just another teenage dream that hadn’t come true – what did it matter. 

But Sam never made him feel _less than_ or _other_ , and Blaine was immensely grateful. This was the only place that no-one wanted him to be anything other than who he was. He wasn’t _'too-white’_ or _‘not white enough’_ , _‘too rich’_ , _‘too poor’_ , _‘too gay’_ or _‘not gay enough’_. Here was total, blissful acceptance. 

Kitty crept in and put bottles of water and advil on the dressing tables, dropping a kiss into Blaine’s hair when he murmured his thanks. She had a very sweet, soft side that she hardly let anyone see, and she claimed to have horribly killed over half of the people who had seen it because they had ‘blabbed’ (Blaine wasn’t sure who to, but he made very sure not to undermine her head-bitch-in-charge status on campus). She whispered that Lauren was going to make her famous hang-over-and-artery-busting cheese, potato and onion hash for them in the morning, and then slipped out of the room. Blaine grinned up at the ceiling. He was so lucky to have these guys as his friends. They might not be perfect, but he loved them. They were his family. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours later Blaine opened a bleary eye to find sunlight streaming in through the window, warming the room with a golden haze. He took a minute to watch as dust motes danced in the sunbeams, like tiny fireflies. 

He rolled his eyes at himself and cautiously turned his head, relieved to find that he didn’t feel nearly as hung-over as he deserved, thanks to Kitty’s late night advil administrations. Sam was lying on his back next to him, staring up at the ceiling, a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

‘Well that’s a look of love if I ever saw one!’ 

Sam smacked at his arm. ‘Shut up! I just met her last night.’ He sighed. ‘But… She’s so beautiful, Blaine, and did you see her smile?’ Sam closed his eyes dreamily. 

Blaine beamed widely, grabbing a pillow to wrap his arms around. ‘I know, Sam. I’m really happy for you.’

‘She’s just everything I’ve ever thought I wanted in a girl, you know? She’s really sweet, and a little bit sassy, and so much fun, and incredibly talented – ‘

‘And really pretty too, which makes her basically perfect. I give you my permission to like her – you’ve liked lots of way stupider girls.’ Blaine grinned cheekily.

‘Thanks, man. I had, like, the best night.’ Sam rolled onto his side to face Blaine. ‘Did you have a good time? No-one there caught your eye?’

‘Nah. I’m not really looking. After everything that happened with…before… I just really want love. I’m not looking to hook up.’ Sam nodded and squeezed his arm sympathetically. 

Blaine brightened. ‘And seeing as how there are no interesting gay guys left in all of Ohio, it looks like I’ll be a bachelor for the rest of my days, which means you and Mercedes will need to hire me to be a fabulous manny for your ten gorgeously chocolatey children, and I’ll teach them to play all sorts of instruments, bake cookies, and, I don’t know, make creepy felt puppets for all your relatives at Christmas.’ He grinned over at a laughing Sam.

‘Thanks for the offer – I must say I like a guy with life goals. Mine is still to get one of those giant talking M&Ms and uh, make it my pet.’ Sam pursed his mouth up in displeasure. ‘I’m sorry Hummel turned out to be such a grade A douchebag, though. I know you had a little thing for him back in high school.’ 

Blaine sighed and sank back into the pillows. 

‘Nah, it’s ok. I mean he’s actually gorgeous in the flesh, so it’s sort of a shame. Sadly, I was just not special enough to tempt him away from his spot on the wall where he was doing some very important leaning. I could never be with a guy who loves to lean more than he loves me!’ Blaine flung an arm over his eyes dramatically and faked a sob. 

Sam snorted a laugh. ‘The guy is clearly a moron, because hell, I’m straight and even I can see you have the most bodacious ass this side of –‘

‘SAM! Oh my god, shut up!’ Blaine laughed, throwing a pillow at Sam’s head.

‘What’s this about Blaine’s ass?’ Tina’s voice chimed in as she walked through the bedroom door, her timing, as ever, impeccable. 

‘Nothing!’ Blaine squeaked, but he was drowned out by Sam indignantly explaining what had happened with Kurt.

‘What, seriously? He said Blaine wasn’t special enough? My Blainey-days? Oh I will hunt that bitch down with a pitch-fork…’ Tina put her hands on her hips and scowled, but dressed in pyjamas and fluffy slippers she only managed to look as fierce as a slightly pissed-off kitten.

Blaine laughed, holding out his hands for her, pulling her down between them on the bed. ‘It’s fine, T. I’m not easily embarrassed. You get a thick skin once you’ve performed at theme parks. And I didn’t like him anyway. Honestly, his whole deal about my being too straight looking… that… pissed me off. But he was rude and arrogant, so it’s not like I care about his good opinion. Now his friend, the lovely Miss Jones – she was a sight for Sam’s sore eyes!’

Tina squealed and turned to face Sam. ‘Give me all the details! Was she beautiful? Did you get her number? Did you kiss her?!’

‘Um, yes, she was very beautiful, yes I got her number, and yes we might have kissed a little.’ Sam blushed red as Tina flung herself at him. 

‘Oh my god, Sam! That’s amazing! When are you gonna see her again?’

‘I’m not sure. She’s in Ohio for a couple of weeks seeing her family, with He Who Shall Not Be Named.’ He shot a glance at Blaine. ‘They’re staying in some fancy hotel, doing some press stuff while they’re here. I was gonna call her in a little bit.’ Sam smiled shyly.

‘Ooh call her now, call her now!’ Tina bounced on the bed.

‘Yeah, Sam, let us sad singles live vicariously through you! You might be our last chance to experience the glorious rush of brand new love!’ Blaine sat up and folded his legs under himself. 

Tina glared at him. ‘Er, speak for yourself, please! I still fully intend to be swept off my feet by a handsome stranger any day now!’

‘You’re right. Sorry Tay-Tay.’ Blaine squeezed her hand apologetically.

‘I should think so! I was prom queen and everyone knows that statistically prom queens are three times more likely to be married by the time they’re thirty.’ She paused and took in Blaine and Sam’s deeply unconvinced expressions. ‘It’s true! It’s based on science! And facts! And scientific facts! I’m Asian, I know these things. Anyway, the point is that Sam is calling Mercedes right now while we watch in a totally non-sad, non-creepy way!’

‘Ugh, you guys are the worst…’ Sam reached out and fumbled for his phone on the bedside table. ‘What time is it even?’

‘Almost noon. I finished work at like, midnight.’ Tina leaned in ‘Now call her, call her!’

Sam unlocked the screen and made a pleased noise that he would deny to the death was a squeal. ‘She texted me already!’

‘Oh my god, what did she say!?’ Tina did a triple speed Kermit flail, almost concussing Blaine in the process. 

‘Okay, sit still for twelve seconds or I will banish you!’ Sam scolded, but his eyes were amused. He scanned the text. ‘So she wants me to meet her tonight.’ 

Tina let out an ear-splitting squeal and nearly bounced Blaine off the bed, so Sam pointed wordlessly at the door.

‘But -'

‘Out! Go ask Lauren if she’ll do that amazing potato hash, take a hot second to calm down, and I promise I will give you all the details in ten minutes.’

‘Fine…’ Tina sighed heavily and shuffled out of the room sadly.

‘So, Mercedes wants to meet up tonight,’ Sam repeated.

‘That’s great! Like a date?’ Blaine leaned in closer.

‘Um, I’m not sure…’ Sam bit his lip awkwardly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well she wants me to go over to their hotel because they’ve got some friends going along for pizza and movies…’

‘Well that’s good, right? That’s a really good sign if she wants you to meet her –‘

‘She wants you to go, too.’

‘-friends, wait - what?’ Blaine's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

‘She’s invited both of us.’ Sam put on his most charming smile and gave a hopeful double thumbs up.

‘Oh no. Absolutely not. No way, Sam. Not happening.’

‘Please? Come on, man, I need you to come or it’ll just be me and it’ll be so awkward. Please?’

‘Well it definitely won’t be less awkward with me there to third wheel on your date, or worse – fourth wheel because Kurt Hummel will be there and he’s clearly not my biggest fan. And I had plans! I really wanted to try out my new jojoba bath oil, and – _what?_ ’

Sam was looking at him like he’d grown another head. 

‘You’re turning down an evening of mingling with Broadway stars for a _bubble bath_?’

‘No, of course not.’ Blaine pouted. ‘It’s a rejuvenating oil, _actually_.’

Sam scoffed. ‘Whatever, dude. You and I both know that you’ll come with me because I’m too pretty for you to turn down, so why don’t you quit your belly-aching and go and make yourself so beautiful that Hummel will swallow his own tongue.’

Blaine heaved a sigh and rolled onto his face. ‘I hate you, do you know that?’

Sam rolled out of bed and smiled winningly at Blaine, slapping him on the butt as he passed him to get to the door. ‘You love me and you want to do me!’

‘ _Sam!_ ’

‘Alright, alright - I’ll let you take a photo of me in my aluminum foil armor to put on Instagram, okay?'

Blaine groaned, defeated.

Sam whooped in triumph. 'Hasta la vista, Blainey!’ He sing-songed as he danced down the hall, leaving Blaine to sulk his way into the shower, muttering about bath oils and philistines, as another unpleasant evening with Kurt Hummel stretched out in front of him.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a change in perspective halfway through this, and then back again - I've marked where it happens so fingers crossed it won't be confusing!
> 
> Thanks again for the support which is amazing! :)

_KURT_

Kurt smoothed the last of the cleanser over his skin and carefully put the cotton pad in the trash. He measured out a precise amount of serum onto his index finger, and leaned in towards the lit mirror.

‘KUUURT!!!’

The holler made him jump, smearing serum up the bridge of his nose. _‘Mercedes Jones!’_ he ground out. ‘Stop yelling, get your booty in here, and tell me exactly what is going on!’

Mercedes burst through his bedroom door, her cell clutched to her chest, looking like she was about to vibrate out of her skin. ‘Sorry honey but this couldn’t wait, it’s even more important than your moisturising regime!’

Kurt gasped and held a hand to his heart, ‘You take that back!’

‘It’s true! I just texted Sam – you remember Sam from last night, right? Tall, pouty, gorgeous,’ her eyes closed briefly and Kurt bit back a smile, ‘– and we have a date tonight and I have no idea what to wear or how to do my make up or- ‘

Kurt smirked and turned back to the mirror on the dressing table, dabbing the serum over his cheekbones. ‘Sweetie, you’re beautiful, glamorous, talented… The guy could barely walk for tripping over his tongue. You could take him on a hay ride and he’d think it was the greatest date of his life.’ He grabbed the next of his jars of moisturiser.

Mercedes blinked. ‘A hay ride? Oh hell to the no, Hummel, this fabulousness does _not_ do hay rides!’

The outrage on her face made Kurt dissolve into helpless giggles. ‘No honey, I just meant that you don’t need to be so worried. This guy – Sam – is obviously super into you, and rightly so. Just hang out together. Let him get to know you.’

He paused while he applied cream under his eyes, then smirked mischievously. ‘Or, since we’re blowing this popsicle stand in a couple of weeks anyway, you could shoot for a different and way more fun sort of ride!’ He winked lasciviously at her.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Ok, firstly, you know I’m not interested in any hanky panky before I get a ring on this finger. And secondly, are you seriously giving me a lecture on having sexy-fun, using an analogy with the words ‘blowing’ and ‘popsicle’ in it, when you shot a really cute boy down last night for no reason?’

Kurt flushed, hectic against his white hotel robe and headband. ‘Well I was in a bad mood! I didn’t want to go in the first place and you made me, and I just… I hate Ohio.’ He finished lamely. ‘There’s nothing for me here, anymore.’ He blinked back sudden, hot tears.

Mercedes moved to sit on the bench with him, putting an arm around his shoulders. ‘I know, baby,’ she murmured, ‘but that wasn’t his fault. Or anyone else who was on the end of your ‘bitch, please’ face last night, really.’

He turned his face into her neck and let out a watery chuckle. ‘M’sorry.’

‘Well I have an idea how you can make it up to me…’ she grinned, wickedly.

‘Oh god, what?’

‘Well I might just have invited Sam to join you, me and Quinn tonight for movies and dinner. And Chandler too if he’s going to be around. I want to get to know Sam better but I don’t want the pressure of dealing with anything physical right now, so I thought if you guys were all there too, like a group date, you could be…’

Kurt sat back and arched an eyebrow. ‘Like a chaperone?’

Mercedes smiled, pleadingly. ‘Please? And if you hate it you could retreat to your room with Chandler so he can make up another sonnet about how pretty your left elbow is, or whatever you two do to pass the time. I just really like Sam. I feel like this could really _be_ something. I need your support, Kurt, it’s important to me.’ Kurt’s face softened so she took a deep breath. ‘Also…’ she began to wheedle, which in Kurt’s experience always ended badly for him. Wheedling had been how he had ended up at the party last night.

‘…yeees?’ He sighed.

‘I might have told him to bring a friend…’

Kurt stiffened and turned to look at her. ‘Any specific friend, Cedes?’ he bit out.

Mercedes’ eyes darted around the room uncomfortably. ‘The cute one…’

‘Blaine?’ He stared at her incredulously.

‘Blaine!’

‘Oh my god, you did not!’ His stomach plummeted down into his terry cloth slippers. He huffed in frustration at himself. He wasn’t used to being nervous these days. He couldn’t understand why the prospect of seeing this boy made him feel so… fluttery. He was probably just worried the guy would smack him on the nose for having been so rude about him the night before.

Mercedes winced. ‘I know, but they’re best friends and I didn’t want Sam to have to walk into a room full of crazy bitches all by himself. Quinn will be there, and Chandler, so you won’t even have to talk to Sam or Blaine if you don’t want! But maybe you two could start fresh, be friends…?’

Kurt internally cursed himself for booking an hotel suite with two bedrooms and an interconnecting living room and tiny kitchen, and for having a soft heart where his girls were concerned. He ground out an exasperated ‘Fine!’ and then batted her grabby hands away while he reached for the last of his jars, cursing himself for his deeply questionable taste in friends.

*

A few hours later Kurt emerged into the living area, where Mercedes and Quinn were already sat on the deeply padded sofa, talking animatedly about Sam. They had set up a couple of bowls of popcorn on the coffee table and laid out a few dvds. 

‘Hello ladies!’ he breezed, hoping he was playing it cool enough not to give away the fact that inside he was a mess of nerves and anticipation. He didn’t know if Blaine would want to confront him over what he’d said the night before, but he certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. He kept telling himself that he was just anxious to avoid an argument over it, he wasn’t affected at all by the thought of being in the same room as those whiskey eyes all evening. He hated whiskey, anyway. He was much more of a margarita man.

‘Kurt!’ Quinn jumped up and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. ‘How are you? You look divine!’ She took in his tight, artfully distressed jeans and fine-knit cream designer sweater.

‘Oh this… thank you. You look gorgeous.’ He brushed off her compliment graciously even though it had taken him almost an hour to decide what to wear. 

She smiled and smoothed down her white dress. ‘How’s your time in Columbus been so far? I know you weren’t looking forward to coming back here.’

Kurt shrugged. ‘About as tedious as I expected.’

Quinn tilted her head in sympathy. ‘At least Mercedes has met someone, so something good has come out of it!’

‘That’s true.’ Kurt grabbed himself a light beer and passed one to Quinn. ‘Sam seems nice. I just hope he’s good enough for her.’

She nodded and thanked him for the beer. ‘Me too. Especially given how much she likes him already. But how are you doing? Have you been back to Lima yet?’

Kurt’s posture stiffened. ‘No.’

_‘Kurt…’_

‘Don’t, Quinn. Just don’t.’ His expression was dark, his tone clipped.

‘Kurt, I just think-‘ 

His voice rose in anger. ‘I don’t want to _talk_ about –‘

He was grateful when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

‘Ah that’ll be Sam – and _friend_.' He said, casting a loaded glare in Mercedes’ direction, ‘I’ll get it.’ 

He stalked over to the door and pulled it open to find Sam and Blaine standing in the hallway. Despite his irritation with Mercedes and Quinn, he really did have every intention of greeting Sam and Blaine like a normal person, but his casual ‘hello’ caught in his throat at the sight of Blaine in red capris, a black polo shirt and _the cutest bow tie in the world_ , which left him just sort of staring at them both like a lunatic. They weren’t to know that his brain was firing all sorts of alternative words at him, like _‘arms’_ and _‘eyes’_ and _‘oh god, ankles’_ , none of which could be allowed out into the world or he would never live it down. He grudgingly admitted to himself that ok, _yes_ , he found Blaine attractive. _Damn._

‘Um, hi?’ Sam said, finally. ‘Mercedes invited us. I’m Sam, we met last night?’

‘Right – yes, I remember.’ Kurt finally forced his voice to co-operate, although it sounded reedy and wretched to his own ears. ‘And you…’ He turned to Blaine and stared some more and _dear god why was he so awkward?_

‘My name’s Blaine.’ A lovely, finely boned hand was extended. 

‘Kurt.’ Kurt took Blaine’s hand, noting the calloused fingers that meant he was probably a guitar player. The rest of his hands were soft and smooth. _Just the right combination of pleasure and pain_ , his brain helpfully supplied, along with an extremely vivid vision of the sorts of things Blaine could do to him with those hands, which made him let go like he’d been burned before something involuntary and embarrassing happened to him in public. _Seriously_ , he scolded his brain furiously, _you are not sixteen years old! You do not react this way to the touch of fingertips!_

‘Kurt?’ The sound of his own name snapped him back to reality. 

Blaine was holding out a bottle of wine and looking at him expectantly. 

‘What?’

‘I said thank you for inviting us.’ Blaine repeated, ‘This is for you guys.’ 

‘It was Mercedes! Who invited you. She invited you. Not me.’ Kurt blurted cloddishly, kicking himself mentally for apparently not being able to hold even the simplest of conversations with this man. He might as well have said ‘I carried a watermelon’ for fuck’s sake.

Blaine’s eyebrows raised slightly. ‘Right. Well then I guess this is for Mercedes!’ He smiled politely.

‘Is she… Can we come in?’ Sam asked.

‘Oh! Right! Yes, of course. Come in.’ Kurt took a step backwards into the room and closed his eyes briefly. Ok, so he was attracted to the guy. No need to panic. He was attracted to lots of guys, it didn’t have to mean marriage and destiny and all that, just that he wouldn’t say no to fooling around a little. Or a lot. Either way, it didn’t have to mean anything more. He was probably just like the rest of the pretty guys he’d met lately, anyway – nice to look at but basically moronic. He set his jaw, determined to spend the rest of the evening proving to himself why he was wrong to feel so strongly attracted to Blaine. 

He realised the boys hadn’t followed him inside, so he stuck his head out into the corridor again to find Blaine touching Sam’s face tenderly, his gaze soft and fond. As soon as he noticed Kurt he wrenched his hand back quickly, flushing and shifting on his feet. He seemed flustered – almost guilty – and Kurt felt an unpleasant combination of suspicion and jealousy prickle over his skin. Mercedes was fairly well-known, and a certain level of fame could attract the wrong type of guy. He sincerely hoped Sam wasn’t playing some sort of game with her.

‘Are you coming in or what?’ He barked out, his voice harsh to hide his disappointment.

‘Sure, of course.’ Sam bounded inside quickly and went straight to hug Mercedes. Blaine followed afterwards, leaving the scent of a cologne or aftershave behind that was woodsy and rich. Kurt’s mouth went dry and he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingertips. He didn’t know what was going on with Sam and Blaine but he would find out. For Mercedes, and for himself. If Mercedes was going to lay her heart on the line, he would make damn sure it was for someone who felt the same for her. He squared his shoulders. Clearly he couldn’t trust himself to speak around Blaine without sounding like a tongue-tied idiot, so he decided to hold back and be quietly observant, and see where the evening led. 

*

_BLAINE_

The evening was shaping up to be as strange as Blaine had feared. He had gone to the Netherfield Hotel determined to be charming and polite, the perfect wingman for Sam, even though he wanted to be as far as he possibly could be from one Kurt Hummel. Then not only had Kurt wrenched open the door and glared at them as though he wanted to eviscerate them on the spot, but he’d dropped Blaine’s hand like it disgusted him. He had made it perfectly clear that Mercedes had invited them and he didn’t want them there, which Blaine wasn’t surprised about but it didn’t exactly make for the greatest ice breaker. He drew on his country club upbringing to keep his manners in place, for Sam’s sake.

Then followed a very awkward moment where he had nearly caught Blaine removing an overlooked sliver of tin foil visor from Sam’s temple, but Blaine had shoved the foil quickly into his pocket so he was fairly certain they had gotten away with it. Sam didn’t know Mercedes all that well yet and neither of them wanted to explain that they had spent the better part of the afternoon dressing up like Arthurian knights and having sword fights in their kitchen. 

Mercedes seemed pleased to see them at least, and introduced them to Quinn Fabray who was just as beautiful as she had been in New Directions videos from years ago, and more recently the live-action Cinderella movie she had just starred in. 

She drew Blaine into pleasant conversation and he found himself telling her about his studies and his past as a Warbler. He was aware of Kurt, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed over his chest. It looked like he would be aloof and unfriendly even on his own turf. 

Mercedes got them all drinks and they settled down around the room. Sam, Mercedes and Quinn took the sofa and Kurt an armchair, his hands folded primly on his crossed legs. Blaine grabbed a couple of throw pillows and sat on the floor, propped up against the arm of the other armchair. They were just starting to discuss the merits of Guardians of the Galaxy over Twilight Eclipse when the door was flung open and a tall, thin guy staggered in under a mountain of pizza boxes. 

‘Chandler!’ Quinn exclaimed, ‘Good to see you!’

The man – Chandler – dumped the boxes down on the table so Blaine could take in his thick-rimmed, hipster glasses and knitted beanie. 

‘Quinn, you made it!’ Chandler bent to hug her and then Mercedes, stopping short at Sam. ‘And who might you be?’

‘Chandler, this is Sam and his friend Blaine. We met at the party last night. They used to be in the New Directions too!’ 

‘Oh. Hi.’ Chandler’s gaze swept Sam and he gave a curt nod, and then did the same to Blaine, ignoring Blaine’s outstretched hand when his eyes found Kurt.

‘Kurt! I missed you!’ He flung himself into Kurt’s arms, inhaling deeply. ‘God, you look – and smell – good enough to eat!’

Kurt blushed deeply. ‘Chandler, if you wrinkle my outfit, so help me…’

‘Oh gosh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll pay to have it cleaned and pressed, I swear…’

Blaine tuned out the rest of Chandler’s babbling. Of course Kurt would have a boyfriend. Granted, he didn’t expect someone quite so… _much_. But then again, Kurt had made it clear that he was into ‘over the top’. He watched as Chandler fussed over Kurt, fetching him napkins and carefully blotting grease from a piece of pizza for him. His mouth quirked in amusement as Kurt batted Chandler away when he tried to hand feed him the pizza. He wasn’t surprised when Chandler vociferously sided with Kurt over their movie options. It figured that Kurt Hummel was dating his own personal sycophant, he mused. 

They eventually decided to watch Eclipse, throughout which Chandler kept up a whispered commentary about Robert Pattinson’s shoulders and tallness and hair and general dreaminess that was presumably intended to impress Kurt, even though it intensely irritated Blaine. He watched Kurt out of the corner of his eye. They had turned the lights off to watch the movie, and the chiaroscuro from the flickering screen made Kurt look flawlessly, perfectly pale. His profile was undoubtedly beautiful, from his thick, artfully styled hair to his almost elfin chin. Blaine’s heart thumped in his chest, and as if he’d heard it from across the room, Kurt’s eyes flicked over towards Blaine. In the low light all he could see was charcoal pools and dark lashes, but Blaine, emboldened by the quiet concentration of their friends, held his gaze. He was determined not to look away first; he didn’t want Kurt to think he was intimidated by him. Kurt’s mouth opened slightly and Blaine saw his tongue dart out to moisten his lower lip, which made his heart thump in his chest again, but he didn’t look away. He felt like Kurt was issuing some sort of challenge, and he was damn well going to meet it. The moment hanging between them started to feel heavy and charged. He was relieved when Chandler leaned back from his position by Kurt’s feet to whisper something to him. Kurt dropped his gaze, and Blaine turned his attention back to the movie, careful not to look over at Kurt again.

Blaine tried hard to tune out Chandler’s inane ramblings, but he couldn’t help but snort with laughter and roll his eyes when Chandler squealed ‘Ooh I _LOVE_ it when he walks!’ during a particularly Edward-heavy scene towards the end.

Chandler’s head snapped around. ‘Is there a problem, _Blaine_?’ He managed to make Blaine’s name sound like a put-down.

‘Well, it’s just, you know… You love it when he walks? _Really?_ ’

‘Yes!’ Chandler hissed back.

Blaine laughed. ‘That’s kind of a low bar, don’t you think? It’s sort of the bare minimum of what Robert Pattinson brings to the role.’

The movie ended and Sam got up to turn on the lights.

Chandler huffed defensively. ‘No! I also love his hair and his shoulders and his eyes and – '

‘I get it; you think he’s hot. But there’s more to appreciating actors than just objectifying them, that’s all.’

Kurt tilted his head towards them and murmured ‘Speaking as an actor I definitely don’t mind being objectified now and then…’

Blaine let his eyes slide from Kurt to Chandler and back before he answered ‘Clearly.’

Kurt’s eyebrows raised and he pursed his lips. 

Blaine took a breath. ‘I’m just saying that acting is art, you know? Actors are artists, not just pieces of meat. My heart’s in music more than anything but the principle is the same for musicians. Trust me, I’m a red-blooded guy and I can definitely admire cute boys, but only talking about someone’s physical attributes for like an hour and a half is a little reductive.’

Chandler’s glare could have wilted plants.

‘Um, does anyone want to play cards?’ Quinn asked, trying to dispel the tension.

‘Oh Blaine won’t want to play cards,’ Chandler breezed, ‘He’s an expert in art appreciation and takes pleasure in nothing else.’

Blaine rolled his eyes. ‘That’s ridiculous. I’m not an expert in anything and I take pleasure in lots of things.’

‘One of my band guys left a guitar, we could sing?’ Mercedes suggested hopefully.

Blaine beamed and nodded. ‘Awesome!’

Chandler crossed his arms across his chest and muttered ‘Robert Pattinson’s ass is art… And who doesn’t appreciate tall and handsome?’ He turned slightly towards Kurt. ‘Did you know I’m the same height as him? This guy at the library the other day said I look just like him from behind.’

Blaine took a sip of his root beer, trying to hold back his laugh. Even Kurt, the presumably doting boyfriend, couldn’t really be persuaded that there were similarities there, could he?

‘Actually I’m more Team Taylor.’ Kurt interjected coolly.

Blaine allowed himself a tiny giggle at the look of consternation that crossed Chandler’s gaping face.

‘Oh of course! I am too, actually.’ Chandler scrambled, ‘He’s obviously the hottest. Those abs, right?’

‘I like the way he plays it with intensity. You can see how much preparation he put in, how he owns the physicality of it, the rawness.’ Kurt shrugged.

‘Exactly, that’s what I think.’ Chandler patted Kurt’s knee.

‘Also the abs.’ Kurt added with a sly grin. 

Blaine was surprised – he’d never heard Kurt be funny before.

‘Personally I think people put too much pressure on actors to make everything into art. Sometimes viewers just want a bit of shameless escapism…’ Chandler muttered.

‘Of course.’ Blaine countered. ‘But that doesn’t mean actors just want to be seen as a collection of body parts, either.’

‘It’s super hard for any performer to be considered really great these days.’ Sam leaned forward to join the conversation. ‘With HD screens and the internet making experts out of everyone, all performers have to be at the top of their game. If you mess something up the whole world sees it, and it’s only a Google search away for the rest of your life. It’s heavy, man. _With great power comes great responsibility!_ ’

‘I’m not sure I can think of more than five or six really great performers these days.’ Kurt mused, sitting back in his chair. 

‘Woah. So _you_ expect more than basic motor functions from your performers, I take it?‘ Blaine asked him, quirking an eyebrow at Chandler who was looking more and more annoyed.

‘I do.’ Kurt nodded.

‘Well of course his expectations are high, Kurt went to NYADA!’ Chandler cried, ‘He’s used to being around performers who can sing, play instruments, act, dance, do martial arts, speak several languages, everything - great all-rounders. The best of the best. And more than that, they teach you how to carry yourself, how to express yourself, how to embody that je ne sais quois. You have to have that special ‘x’ factor to truly be considered great.’ He gazed at Kurt with cartoonish heart eyes.

‘That’s true, Chan.’ Kurt patted him on the shoulder. ‘But more than that, performers need to develop something more substantial, a complexity they can only find… through a true appreciation of their art.’ He shot a glance at Blaine, who smiled and shook his head. He was pretty sure Kurt was making fun of him.

‘Wow. Well. I’m not really surprised anymore that you can only think of six great performers, Kurt. I’m surprised that you can think of any.’ He met Kurt’s gaze boldly. Kurt smirked and blinked, slowly. _He is infuriatingly full of himself…_ Blaine thought. Ugh, he wanted to go home. But Sam was having a good time - and Blaine was pleased to see him making an effort to talk to Quinn and Chandler, too.

Mercedes got up then and made a show of getting the guitar from her room, letting Sam and Blaine bicker about who got to play first.

*

_KURT_

By the early hours of the morning Sam, Blaine, Quinn and Mercedes were loose and giggly, having sung their hearts out and danced like fools, covering songs from every era (although Blaine seemed to favour Katy Perry). Kurt had refrained from singing saying he had to save his voice, and watched on from the periphery with a sort of amused haughtiness. Chandler, of course, was never far from his side. 

Kurt didn’t miss the way Sam smiled at Quinn when they sang ‘Lucky’ as a duet. He was definitely flirting with Mercedes, it was just he also seemed to be flirting with Quinn – and as for Blaine… 

Sam and Blaine started a rocked up version of ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ with Sam on guitar so Blaine could jump around on the furniture. They certainly had some chemistry. Kurt wasn’t sure if there was actually something between them (he’d seen them high-fiving and shouting ‘BLAM!’ and really, does ‘just friends’ warrant a portmanteau?) or if Sam was some sort of fag-stag.

He felt good about his subtle flirting with Blaine throughout the evening. Blaine was smart and sort of sassy, which Kurt liked more than he’d thought he would, given he was used to having boys constantly flatter him. Unfortunately, it seemed that Chandler was determined to hate Blaine and get underfoot every two seconds, and there was also the weird Blam thing.

He narrowed his eyes, tired of trying to figure it out. He decided it was time for something soothing – tea sounded perfect - and flicked on the kettle in the little kitchen. Within minutes Chandler had joined him, leaning into him conspiratorially. ‘Not much to like about Blaine, except he can carry a tune.’ He whispered, cattily, nodding over to where Blaine was belting out the last few lines, dishevelled and grinning. 

Kurt shrugged, not taking his eyes off of Blaine, whose bow tie was hanging loose around his neck where the top two buttons of his polo were now open. A flush of warmth radiated through his body and he wasn't entirely sure it was because of the tea.

Chandler seemed to take that as encouragement, and added ‘You know he’s only studying at OSU? He didn’t even get into a performing arts school. He says he wants to teach, but you know what they say: _‘Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.’_ And you know his parents live near Lima Heights Adjacent?’ His lip curled in disgust.

Kurt hummed noncommittally. ‘I heard him say that, yes.’ 

‘Seriously what is up with his hair? He really looks almost wild. You would never make such an exhibition of yourself.’ Chandler smoothed a hand down Kurt’s arm.

‘That’s true.’ Kurt said softly.

‘So has this, uh… has this changed your opinion on his pretty eyes?’ Chandler smiled at him slyly.

Kurt clicked his tongue, regretting having mentioned Blaine’s beautiful eyes to Chandler on the way home last night. He sucked in a breath, still watching Blaine. ‘Oh no.’ His voice was low. ‘They’re just brightened by the exercise.’

Chandler opened and closed his mouth comically for a second, then set about making himself a cup of tea. It seemed he’d finally run out of things to say.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful comments, which are everything <3

Tuesday morning found them at a local diner waiting for Sam and Blaine to join them for brunch, much to Chandler’s vociferous irritation.

‘Christ, look at this place.’ Chandler muttered furiously, ‘Is there anything on this menu that’s green and not deep-fried? My pores, Kurt, my goddamn _pores!_ ’ 

‘Just order eggs and toast, Chandler. Or do what you always do and order exactly the same as Kurt.’ Mercedes sighed deeply.

Chandler glared at her. ‘ _Toast?_ Honey, I haven’t eaten carbs since 2007 and I’m not about to start now!’

Kurt rolled his eyes. ‘Look, clearly this place isn’t Buvette, but we agreed to come with Mercedes so let’s just get though it as best we can and then we can talk about making over Nancy Grace.’ He was careful to sound bored, and not give away how much he was looking forward to seeing Blaine again.

Chandler eyed the diners and threw himself back in his seat in disgust. ‘Ugh, I’ve never seen so much plaid in one place before. It’s not even a cute, lumbersexual thing, it’s just middle aged men with poor taste and even poorer personal grooming habits.’

‘Shut up, Chandler.’ Mercedes’ stony tone stopped Chandler mid-rant. ‘You’re from Ohio, of course you’ve seen this much plaid, you were probably raised in flannel onesies. Also please bear in mind that Kurt and I are from Ohio as was Kurt’s Dad and most of our families so I suggest you watch where you walk, Queen Bitch.’

Chandler huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Kurt shot Mercedes a grateful look, but didn’t trust himself to speak. He would wear flannel shirts every day for the rest of his life to have his gruff, warm, wonderful Dad back in one of his own for just an hour. He took a sip of iced tea, trying to clear the lump in his throat. Everything about Ohio reminded him of his Dad, everywhere he went evoked memories he’d tried hard to suppress. Sometimes he felt so claustrophobic he could barely breathe. 

He was distracted from his maudlin thoughts by Chandler grumbling ‘Oh good lord, _seriously?_ Are we adopting _all_ of the munsters now?’

He followed his gaze to the door, where Sam had just come in, followed by Blaine and three or four other people. Sam’s face broke into an enormous grin when he spotted Mercedes, and he came bounding over to give her a hug. ‘Hi guys!’ He was altogether too cheerful for a dingy diner with sad, plastic seats.

‘Hey.’ Blaine followed him and gave the table an awkward wave. ‘I’m sorry we’re a little late, our friends decided to join us at the last minute. I hope that’s ok?’

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause where Chandler fumed and Kurt was entirely distracted by Blaine’s extremely well-tailored ( _seriously, he had to have been sewn into those, right?_ ) gray pants and striped cardigan. And another bowtie. Kurt’s shoulders slumped. He was doomed. He suddenly realised he was doing the creepy silent staring thing again, and finally said ‘Well you’re all here now.’ He’d meant it to sound cheery but not embarrassingly over-enthusiastic, but it came out a tad bitchy. Why did his brain enter a weird fugue state every time he was in the same room as this boy?

‘Right! It’s great to meet you.’ Mercedes managed to break free of her Sam-induced daze. ‘I’m Mercedes and these are my friends, Kurt and Chandler.’

Sam slid into the free seat next to Mercedes while Blaine gestured to each of their friends. ‘This is Tina, Lauren and Kitty – we all live together. And this is my good friend Thad. We went to Dalton Academy together a few years ago and now we both go to OSU. Thad, you might remember Kurt from Sugar’s party?’

‘Oh I remember.’ Thad was tall and dark, and looked Kurt over with a shrewd gaze that missed nothing. Kurt suddenly placed him - this was the tall guy from the party. _Great._

The newcomers busied themselves pulling a second table up and settling themselves down.

Blaine sat next to Sam, opposite Tina, who was next to Kurt. Thad sat next to Blaine and Lauren and Kitty sat at the end of the table, immediately starting up a loud conversation about which waiter was the hottest. 

Once they had ordered (Chandler did indeed order exactly what Kurt had) Tina leaned forwards and grabbed Sam’s hand. ‘Isn’t Sam the best, Mercedes? She squealed excitedly. ‘He’s the sweetest guy – except my Blainey-days of course!’

‘ _Blainey-days?_ ’ Kurt repeated, staring at her incredulously. Chandler erupted into a laughing fit that he covered poorly with coughs. 

Tina glared at him until Mercedes stepped in. ‘Sam’s really great. I’m so glad we’ve all met each other.’

Tina shot her a smile. ‘Are you enjoying your time back in Ohio? There's nowhere like Ohio in the fall, all the colours and the sunlight…’

‘Yeah, I’m enjoying it. Looking forward to being back in the city too, though.’

‘How long are you guys staying?’

Mercedes glanced at Kurt. ‘We’re not sure exactly. A couple more weeks. I’m shooting a video here and there’s some press stuff, so.’ She caught Sam’s eye and smiled shyly. ‘A few more weeks, we hope.’

‘That’s amazing, maybe we could be extras in your video!’ Tina squealed excitedly.

Chandler started to cough again and even Kurt allowed the corners of his mouth to quirk up. He was pretty sure the record company wouldn't let this motley bunch anywhere near Mercedes' glamorous, Great Gatsby inspired music video. Except maybe Blaine who seemed to have come straight from that era, especially with his curls a little more tightly restrained than usual like they were today.

‘I don’t know what’s so funny!’ Tina hissed, ‘We’re all from a musical background and we’d love to help out.’

Mercedes smiled uncertainly. ‘Thank you so much, I really appreciate the offer but I think the record company has it covered. I’ll definitely let you know, though, if we need anyone.’

‘So you’re here for a couple more weeks? That’s awesome.’ Sam beamed.

‘A couple more weeks too many…’ Chandler huffed, sulkily.

‘Um, what exactly is wrong with Ohio?’ Tina’s face was a picture of outrage. Behind her, Kurt could hear that Lauren and Kitty’s ogling had turned into a raucous ‘Kiss, Fuck or Marry’ game that descended into howls of laughter. Kurt could see how many people were looking over at the noise, and fiddled with his cuffs uncomfortably. 

‘To be honest, it's boring.’ Kurt interjected, coolly. ‘The mid-West is pretty much tundra and tumbleweed compared to the Big Apple with all its museums, shows, shops...’

‘We have _stuff_ going on!’

Kurt rolled his eyes. This girl either had a serious chip on her shoulder or needed some anger management, stat. 

‘Tina…’ Blaine reached for her hand soothingly, but she ignored him and charged on.

‘We do! Last week the community theatre put on a production of Rent and nearly a hundred and fifty people came!’ Chandler lost it completely, no longer even trying to disguise his giggles, but Tina was undeterred. ‘Besides which the people are actually nice and not stuck up, condescending assholes, so you can take New York and shove it!’ She sat back, crossing her arms in satisfaction.

Kurt was about to ask if Tina could spell ‘condescending’ when Blaine tried to smooth things over again.

‘Tina, I’m sure that Kurt didn’t mean to put Columbus down, he just meant that there’s even more variety in a bigger city, right?’ Blaine glanced at Kurt apologetically, and Kurt couldn’t stay annoyed in the face of the stupid puppy-dog eyes. 

Mercifully they were interrupted by their food arriving. Kurt was annoyed at the way the waitress flirted with Sam, and even more annoyed at the way Sam smiled back, but Mercedes didn’t seem to care so he let it go. He was amused to see Blaine start to demolish an enormous stack of pancakes in a very careful, precise way without spilling a drop of syrup. His own egg-white omelette and fruit salad left a little to be desired, and he said as much when Chandler asked, snapping his fingers at the wait-staff to get them to top up his tea. Tina made some pointed comments about ‘insufferable townies’ under her breath, which Kurt chose to ignore, mostly because it was obviously making Blaine uncomfortable. 

He certainly seemed to have impeccable manners, Kurt mused, unlike his friends. He was shocked to see the little blonde one – Kitty, he thought – reach out and pinch the backside of the waiter clearing her plate, hard enough to make him jump and drop some cutlery with a resounding clatter, and then Lauren propositioned him with a wrestling innuendo that nearly made the guy swallow his own tongue. Blaine jumped up to apologise and help him clear up, whispering something furiously at Kitty and Lauren who just cackled and carried on. Kurt wondered if Blaine would jump to his rescue if he dropped his own cutlery accidentally-on-purpose because seriously, anything to have him bending down in those gray pants ( _mother-of-god, those pants_ ).

Thad watched the whole thing with an amused, resigned expression. He seemed to be content to sit back and observe, only occasionally contributing to the conversation. He had a wry sense of humor, Kurt thought, but none of Blaine’s charisma. Where Blaine was passionate, Thad was reserved. Where Blaine was excitable and outgoing, Thad was quiet and observant. It was clear that Thad thought the world of Blaine and vice versa. They were an interesting pair.

‘Blaine!’ a small girl-shaped whirlwind raced past Kurt and threw itself onto Blaine’s lap. 

‘Kira! Hi beautiful girl!’ Blaine laughed delightedly. ‘Is your Mommy here with you?’

‘Yep.’ The girl pointed over Blaine’s shoulder. ‘She’s right over there. We were just nearly finished and then I sawed you and Mommy said I could come say hi.’ She beamed, throwing her arms around Blaine’s neck, and Kurt stamped down an irrational and wholly unwelcome spike of jealousy.

‘Well I’m glad you did!’ Blaine grinned at her. ‘It must be a hundred years since I last saw you! I missed you!’ He threw his hands up dramatically and Kira giggled ecstatically, making her blonde curls shake. 

‘Let me introduce you to my friends.’ Blaine shifted the child on his lap so she faced the table. ‘Guys! This is Princess Kira of Columbus, Ohio. Princess Kira, these are my friends, who will now be watching their language!’ He gestured to the table with a twirly hand movement. 

‘Delighted to meet you, Princess Kira!’ Sam jumped up and dipped into a low bow. ‘How do you know my noble friend, here?’

‘I teach Kira piano.’ Blaine said, and then in an exaggerated whisper ‘She’s my favourite student, but don’t tell the others!’

Kira giggled again, her blue eyes sparkling.

‘I didn’t used to be very good, but Blaine did teach me and now Mommy says I’m super good and that’s why we came to have pancakes with syrup because they’re my favourite!’

Blaine gasped ‘No way! Pancakes are my favourite too!’

‘Really?’ Kira eyed Blaine’s plate. ‘Strawberries are my favourites too, but I eated all of mine already.’ She made a sad face.

‘Well I’m awfully full, and I’ll get in trouble with Sam if I don’t clean my plate…’ Sam gave him a mock stern face which made Kira dissolve into laughter. ‘Could you help me out and finish my strawberries?’

‘Totally!’ She grabbed a strawberry and smushed it into her mouth, ducking away from Blaine as he laughingly tried to swipe at her with a napkin.

Kurt was pretty sure he hadn’t blinked in about seven minutes. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Blaine and the little girl. Blaine was so sweet and natural it wasn’t a surprise he had charmed just about everyone in a five-mile radius, but something about seeing how gorgeous Blaine was with children was… Kurt couldn’t quite define the feeling tugging at his chest, something good but on the edge of painful. He suddenly caught Thad watching him with a thoughtful expression, so he tore his gaze away from and back to his plate, embarrassed at being caught. He forced himself not to look at Blaine again until Kira had skipped off back to her mother. 

*  
Blaine excused himself from the table, slipping some bills under his plate, to go and fiddle with the jukebox. He needed a break from trying to mediate Kurt’s passive-aggression and Tina’s aggressive-aggression. Really, could no-one conduct themselves civilly in a public place anymore?

He sighed. He selected Billy Joel’s uptown girl and started to sing along softly. He was hoping to stall long enough that everyone else would be ready to leave by the time he got back. He nearly jumped out of his skin when another boy’s voice started to sing along with his.

‘Woah, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ A hand squeezed his arm reassuringly and Blaine looked up to find a tall, good-looking guy with green eyes and well-groomed brown hair smiling down at him. ‘You’re really good, you know?’

‘Oh.’ Blaine blushed. ‘Thank you. So are you.’

‘Sebastian Smythe.’ He held out his hand to shake, and Blaine took it. 

‘Blaine Anderson. Sorry, did you want the jukebox?’

Sebastian let his gaze drift over Blaine. ‘Yeah, but I definitely don’t mind sharing it with _you_.’ The inflection on the ‘you’ was so suggestive that even Blaine, who was famously oblivious to these things, understood it as flirtation. He blushed furiously, scrambling for something to say.

‘Um, are you in college here?’

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. ‘Do I look like I’m in college?’ His eyes sparkled with mirth as he gestured down his body. He was dressed in classic, expensive designer clothes. Blaine recognised the shirt as Tom Ford but refused to let his eyes travel any lower. Sebastian smirked knowingly.

‘I, um…’ Blaine laughed, flustered, and ducked his head.

Sebastian smiled, leaning in closer to catch his gaze, and Blaine found himself almost hypnotised by green eyes and white teeth and _oh_ , he smelled good, and was so close, surrounding him and filling all his senses.

‘Do you want to get coffee with me sometime?’ 

‘Me?’ Blaine fought to keep his voice somewhat normal. 

‘Oh come on. You’re sex on a stick, you sing like a dream, and the bashful schoolboy thing? Super hot. Of course I want to have coffee with you.’ Sebastian tilted his head at Blaine coyly.

Blaine couldn’t remember the last time a handsome boy had flirted with him like this. Usually Blaine had to do all the work, wooing and serenading and putting his heart on the line. Having someone be so out there, so confidently wanting him like this, was intoxicating.

‘I…’

‘Sebastian Smythe. Like the proverbial bad penny.’ Kurt’s voice interrupted them, his tone icy.

‘Hummel. Good to see you.’ Sebastian turned to face Kurt, his jaw was set, eyes flinty.

‘I wish I could say the same.’ Kurt’s face was twisted in disgust, and something else as he looked from Sebastian to Blaine and back again – maybe anger, Blaine thought. ‘Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way, hmm?’ Kurt turned on his heel and strode off, looking back over his shoulder once to hiss ‘You still smell like Craigslist!’ before stalking back to the table.

Blaine’s jaw hung open in shock. ‘Well that was rude, even for him!’

Sebastian laughed bitterly and shrugged. ‘Ha! I see you’ve met him, then. We go way back. He’s not my biggest fan these days.’

‘He’s not mine, either.’

‘No? More fool him.’ Sebastian looked at Blaine from under his lashes, smiling when he saw Blaine’s blush. ‘It’s ironic, really, given how he screwed me over. I just want to move on and be adults about it, but Hummel’s an ice queen. All I can do is try to be the better man.’

Blaine stopped himself from asking what happened, he had better manners than that. He could well believe Kurt treating Sebastian badly, given his behaviour. He couldn’t help but be impressed by how magnanimous Sebastian was being about it all. ‘Do you still want to get coffee sometime?’

Sebastian grinned at him. ‘Sure. We can discuss how one might get hold of an application form.’

‘For what?’

‘I heard there was an opening for someone to be your biggest fan. I’m very interested.’ He tucked a card into Blaine’s cardigan pocket, stroking his fingers over Blaine’s stomach just a little longer than necessary. He winked. ‘Call me.’ 

After Sebastian left Blaine sagged back against the wall and blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He wondered if this was what swooning felt like. 

‘Okay, kid?’ Thad had wandered over as their table dispersed.

‘Yeah. Long morning.’ Blaine smiled ruefully at his friend.

‘Long brunch, you mean.’ Thad inclined his head in the direction of their table.

‘The longest.’ Blaine sighed. ‘I won’t be sorry when they go back to New York and everything goes back to normal, as long as Sam doesn’t get his heart broken.’

Thad hummed. ‘Kurt was looking at you a great deal, you know, Blaine.’

Blaine scoffed and looked over at the table, where he found that Kurt was indeed looking at him. Kurt turned his head away quickly, a flush on his pale cheeks.

‘If he’s looking at me then it must be so he can find yet more fault. He’s made his feelings about me perfectly clear, Thad.’ 

Thad smiled, knowingly. ‘If you say so. I wonder if Sam should be more obvious about his feelings for Mercedes…’

‘He seems pretty obvious to me!’

‘It’s just that he’s really friendly and sort of flirty with everyone. Which is a great thing –‘ Thad soothed, seeing Blaine get ready to jump to his friend’s defence, ‘but with long distance and everything that’s involved, I can’t help but feel Mercedes would probably respond to some stronger assurances of how he feels.’

‘Well I’ll pass on that expert dating advice, Mr Stoically-Single!’ Blaine nudged his shoulder playfully.

Thad laughed. ‘Shut up! I’ll meet a man when the time is right. Until then you all get the benefit of my wisdom, so make the most of it. And it’s not like you’re fighting off the guys with a stick right now either.’

‘I’ll have you know I got someone’s number today!’

Thad raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Do tell!’ 

Blaine told him all about it as they walked out of the diner. He brushed his fingers over the card in his pocket, a little thrill running through him. _Sebastian Smythe_. In Blaine’s mind it sounded a lot like ‘potential’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Blaine is wearing the outfit he wears when meeting Sebastian for the first time in Glee :)


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking forever with this! Thanks for sticking with me :) xx

The blaring of his ring tone jolted Blaine cruelly from sleep the next morning. He blearily groped for his phone, half hoping it was some sort of romantic wake-up call from Sebastian. ‘Lo?’ he mumbled.

‘Good morning, Blaine. You aren’t still in bed, are you?’ The clipped tones of his father made Blaine sit up. Shoot. He kicked himself for not checking the screen before he’d answered. He was too tired to navigate his way around emotional mind-games with his father right now. 

‘Hi, Dad. I uh, I’m just getting up. I stayed up late to study last night.’ Blaine was not really very good at lying, but with his father it had become second nature. Todd Anderson was strict and old-fashioned, and would definitely not have been okay with Blaine staying up until 2am to exchange flirtatious texts with a boy.

‘Hmm.’ His father sighed out, sounding deeply unconvinced. Blaine sank into himself. He was used to disappointing his father, but it still stung. 

‘How are you, Sir? How’s Mom?’

‘We’re well, Blaine, but I’m not calling for small talk.’ _Of course,_ thought Blaine, _because it would definitely be too much effort to ask how I am._ ‘I need you to do something for me, Blaine.’

Blaine winced. This didn’t sound good. ‘Sir?’

‘A business opportunity has presented itself. I’ve met a potential investor who might be able to get me back on my feet again.’

‘That’s wonderful, Sir.’ Blaine wrinkled his forehead, trying to figure out what this had to do with him.

‘It could be. We’re still in talks. The thing is, Blaine…’ Todd Anderson cleared his throat uncomfortably, ‘this investor has a son about your age, who shares your… _proclivities._ ’

Blaine tensed, his free hand fisting the blanket. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I assume you’re still determined to pursue your particular lifestyle choices?’

‘You’re asking if I’m still gay.’ Blaine stated, burning with the old, familiar resentment that had become the crux of his relationship with his father.

‘I am.’

Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. ‘Of course I am, Dad. It’s not a phase I’ll grow out of. I’m gay. Gold star. Forever.’

‘Hm. Right. Well that works out, because this son is also gay,’ (even from miles away Blaine could hear the distaste that curled around the word as it left his father’s mouth) ‘and single.’

There was a meaningful pause. Suddenly Blaine’s tired mind made the connection.

‘Oh? _Oh!_ You’re… pimping me out?’ Blaine gaped. He pulled the phone away from his ear for a second just to double check he hadn’t woken up in a different century. He did sometimes have dreams about being Michael J. Fox in _Back to the Future_. When he’d told Sam about it Sam had guffawed and made rude comments about the both of them being vertically challenged and stuck in the 1950s, and Blaine had punched him in the arm but his fist went numb before Sam’s arm did which was _so_ annoying.

He snapped his attention back to his father. 

‘For god’s sake, Blaine, don’t be so crass and melodramatic. You’re young and that way inclined, so is he. I’m not selling you off for a dowry of goats, I’m merely asking you to wine and dine him a little. Turn on the old Anderson charm. Drop in some praise for your old man. That’s not so hard, is it?’

Blaine sighed. ‘Is he even a good guy?’

‘He’s, um, got a lot of very interesting qualities.’

Blaine narrowed his eyes. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Does it matter? Like I said, I’m not expecting you to marry him.’

‘Dad... What are you signing me up for?’

Todd Anderson sighed in frustration. ‘To all intents and purposes he very much appears to be a simpering idiot, Blaine. Why do you think he can’t get his own dates? Are you happy now?’

‘Ecstatic.’ Blaine muttered through gritted teeth. 

‘Good. I have high hopes that he will fulfil or even exceed my expectations for him being a simpering moron. You’re a smart kid, Blaine. You could use this to your advantage, too. This is an opportunity for you.’

‘Thank you for looking out for me, Sir.’ Blaine said sarcastically.

Todd sniffed. ‘Well. I’ve passed on your contact information. You’ll be hearing from him. It’s important this goes well. This could change everything for your mother and I, do you understand?’

Blaine threw himself back onto his pillows, pressing his palm to his eyes. 

‘Do you understand?’ The tone was steely, unbending. Blaine could tell there was no room for compromise. 

‘Yes, Sir.’ He sighed.

‘Good.’ His father disconnected the call. 

Blaine stared at the ceiling running through all the different ways in which he could have – should have – told his father to go to hell. Deep down, though, he knew he would never have done that. His father was a difficult man, but Blaine loved him, and wanted to make him proud.

Todd had harboured high hopes for his sons and had pushed them both hard to try to bring his dreams of ‘Anderson & Sons’ to fruition, but he had been bitterly disappointed when both boys were born with their mother’s artistic soul. Cooper had flunked out of school and gone to LA to pursue acting, leaving Blaine to bear the brunt of his father’s expectations. 

The minute Blaine had come out as gay his father practically exuded disappointment through his pores, and he’d never stopped. Blaine had tried to buy some favour through high school by maintaining high grades and joining almost every extra-curricular activity he could. Even after he was forced to transfer to McKinley following their money troubles he took care to maintain his image as the perfect dapper gentleman, but his bow-ties and impeccable manners just seemed to grate on his father who made it clear that it wasn’t in line with his idea of being a real man. Now he was pursuing a career in music – albeit in the context of education – but it wasn’t in Investment Banking, and Todd would never get his ‘Anderson & Sons’ sign above the door.

Well, Blaine supposed going to dinner wasn’t the end of the world. He’d just get through it so he could get back to focusing on Sebastian, his own life, and ignoring his dad for six to eight months. Good plan. Excellent plan. His phone buzzed with a text, and he thumbed over the screen with trepidation.

**_Hi Blaine, your father gave me your number, good to virtually meet you. I’ve made dinner reservations for Friday. I’ll add you on Facebook. Eli C_ **

He thumbed across the screen to access his Facebook, and there it was: a friend request. He opened the profile. The guy seemed a few years older but at least he wasn’t a middle-aged alcoholic with a wife. Blaine wasn’t at all sure it would have stopped his father if he was. 

He seemed to have a lot of stuff on his page about Broadway and musical theater. At least they’d have that in common. He heaved a sigh that felt like it came from his toes, and accepted the friend request, the words popping up almost immediately:

_Blaine Anderson and Eli Collins are now friends._

*

Through a series of stilted text messages over the course of the week it was decided that Eli would swing by Blaine’s place that Friday to pick him up for their ‘date’ (Blaine couldn’t even think the word without wrinkling his nose up in distaste) because he knew the restaurant, and because Sam wanted to make extra sure Eli wasn’t a middle aged alcoholic with a wife, after all. He knew Blaine’s father had no scruples. 

Blaine had a particularly annoying conversation with Thad, who agreed that yes, it was an extremely shitty move on his father’s part, but thought maybe Blaine should approach the date with an open mind. Eli might be a good guy, after all. Blaine scoffed and dismissed the idea out of hand. He had no idea how much Eli Collins knew about the arrangement between their fathers, but in the absence of his dad he was more than happy to direct all of his resentment at Eli. He certainly didn’t agree with Thad that Eli deserved to be given a chance. 

Especially as Blaine had finally, _finally_ struck up something promising with a guy that he really liked. He and Sebastian exchanged dozens of flirtatious texts, and spoke on the phone a couple of times. He found out that Sebastian was part of the cast of a production of West Side Story currently in Columbus for a month as part of a tour of several major cities in Ohio and neighbouring states. 

Seb had even invited him and his friends to watch and then join him backstage one day, which had Lauren, Kitty and Tina effervescing with excitement because, as Kitty informed him loudly, there would be boys. Pretty, dancing, sweaty boys. Blaine rolled his eyes, but couldn’t deny that Sebastian singing and dancing onstage was a very pleasant mental image. 

Seb’s confidant, easy flirtation still had Blaine’s stomach twisting in excitement, his fingertips buzzing with the need for touch. He desperately wanted to see him again, but he didn’t feel like he could do it with this Eli thing hanging over his head. He decided to organise coffee for over the weekend sometime. 

*

Kurt sat awkwardly on the sofa in Blaine’s front room, wondering how the universe had arranged it so that once again Blaine was dancing around in front of him in a confined space. There were so many reasons he could not have a crush on this boy – the female roommates currently shrieking and doing vodka jello shots in the kitchen were just three of those reasons. 

Sam had called Mercedes that afternoon and made them promise to come over because Blaine was apparently in need of the sort of stress relief that could only be brought about by take-out Thai food and Blaine’s ‘Sounds of the Seventies’ playlist. 

‘Mmm, Roxy Music makes me want to invent a time machine just so I can go back to the seventies and give Bryan Ferry a high five.’ Blaine’s eyes were closed as he bopped about, ecstatically. 

‘Yes, my man!’ Sam bumped Blaine’s shoulder and they both started doing some sort of air acoustic guitar dancing.

 _Dorks,_ Kurt thought, smoothing down his knee length cardigan. _Ridiculous, sexy, epic dorks._ He crossed his legs and did some surreptitious cardigan re-arrangement just in case of any involuntary physical reaction to Blaine shaking his ass three feet away from him, in very tight maroon pants and, as far as Kurt could tell, an undershirt. 

He leaned into Mercedes who was tucked in next to him. ‘Do you think I’m boring?’

‘What?’ She tore her eyes away from the two guys dancing.

‘Do you think I’m boring?’

‘Boo, you know you’re the single most fabulous kid in all of Ohio…’ 

Kurt blushed. ‘No, I mean… You know, sexually…’

Mercedes turned to stare at Kurt. ‘Honey, I’m not sure I need any graphic details but I’ve heard enough through the walls to seriously doubt that!’

‘No, not like that. I mean, do you think I always go for the wrong type of guy? Do I always go for the guy who’s decent enough in bed but doesn’t challenge me at all intellectually?’

Mercedes laughed. ‘Well, yeah. I mean, doesn’t that explain basically the entirety of Chandler’s existence?’

Kurt sighed. ‘Fair point. Oh god. I’ve dated the same guy like eight times over, haven’t I? And FYI, I’m not sleeping with Chandler. I haven’t for months.’

Mercedes tucked her arm through his. ‘Look, boo, I get it. High school sucked for you, you lost your Dad, we all lost Finn. You go to New York where your cup’s running over with cute gay guys, and if you’re dating around because you like the attention then more power to you. There’s nothing wrong with that, you’re a hot guy, you should be appreciated. But if you’re choosing guys that you know you won’t fall in love with because you’re afraid of getting hurt… Well that’s something you probably need to deal with at some point, don’t you think? Your ass is much too fine to be alone for the rest of your life.’

Kurt laughed, and threw his arms around her.

Mercedes sighed and squeezed him tightly. ‘God, coming back here has been rough, hasn’t it?’

‘Little bit, yeah.’ Kurt’s voice was watery. 

‘I know what we need to do!’ She straightened up, a huge grin on her face.

Kurt tensed up, shaking his head vehemently. ‘Oh no, I know that tone, Mercedes…’

‘We need to throw a party!’

‘Oh god.’ Kurt put his head in his hands.

‘A _big_ one!’

‘Oh no, ‘Cedes…’

‘Honey, if we learned anything from the last party it’s that we need to show these bitches how it’s done, and they have not lived until they’ve been to a Kurt Hummel party!’

Chandler appeared at Kurt’s elbow. ‘What’s this, a party? We’re having a party?’

Somewhere in the kitchen a high-pitch shriek rang out. _‘Mercedes is having a party!’_ Kurt winced as several more ear-splitting screams rang out, followed by a loud crash. _Wow,_ those girls were crazy.

Kurt heaved a resigned sigh, staring over at where Sam and Blaine were dancing. ‘Can we play Roxy Music?’

Mercedes followed his gaze and laughed. ‘All night long, honey!’

Kurt perked up a bit, and nodded. ‘Alright, I’m in.’


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the encouragement, it really means such a lot! :) xx

By the time the doorbell rang on Friday Blaine had calmed down enough to be able to put on his show face along with his bow-tie. He would smile and make conversation, and get this stupid charade over with. 

‘I’ll get it, bro!’ Sam jumped up from the couch. ‘That way if he’s a serial killer I can laser hand him to the face before he can get to you!’

Blaine had to laugh. ‘Sam, how would you know he’s a serial killer? And you don’t actually have a laser hand, you know that right?’

‘Details, my tiny little friend, minor details!’ Sam flung the door open with a flourish. 

The man on the step stared at Sam. Blaine suddenly felt a little bit sorry for Eli, unprepared as he was for the sight of Sam looking like a demi-god in a sleeveless tank top and shorts.

‘Are you Eli?’ Sam asked after a long moment of silence.

‘Yes.’ Eli rasped, then he coughed and repeated ‘Yes!’ in a steadier voice. 

Sam waved him through to the living room. Blaine didn’t think Eli’s eyes had left Sam’s lips since he’d arrived. ‘Eli?’ He asked, trying to snap Eli out of it a bit. ‘Hi, I’m Blaine. And this is Sam, my very straight house-mate.’ It didn’t work, so he said, louder, ‘He’s about to go and get ready for a date he has tonight. With a _girl!’_

Eli’s face fell a bit, but when he turned his gaze onto Blaine it brightened again. Eli was a tall, heavy-set guy with a serious expression, unkempt hair and a mouth that turned down at the corners. Blaine was not even slightly attracted to him. Blaine turned panicked eyes onto Sam, but he just smiled sunnily and went off to shower ready for his date with Mercedes.

Eli stuck out his hand. ‘Pleasure to meet you at last, Blaine. I’ve been looking forward to this, I feel like we’ve shared a real connection over text.’ 

Blaine begged to differ, but he hummed noncommittally in an effort to be polite. He reluctantly took the proffered hand. The words ‘spongy’ and ‘limp’ came to mind. This was not an auspicious start.

Eli had arrived a little early, so Blaine led him into the kitchen, wincing a little at the sight of Lauren and Kitty there cutting up apples to dip into peanut butter.

Eli accepted a cup of Earl Grey, blowing on it to cool it while Blaine rummaged in the fridge for a lemon because Eli had said, oh so earnestly, ‘My boss, June Dolloway, says that it isn’t civilised to drink tea without a spritz.’

‘Oh, sorry. I’m sure I have one here somewhere.’ Blaine tried to distract Eli’s attention away from Kitty who had started to giggle. ‘I don't suppose you would want milk?’

Eli’s expression of abject horror had Lauren guffawing behind a napkin.

‘No thank you!’ he said, but to Blaine’s ears it sounded more like _‘Get away from me, you heathen!’_

Blaine sighed in relief when he located a lone lemon hiding at the back of a shelf. 

‘June Dolloway, my boss, says adding milk to Earl Grey makes for a bitter brew.’ Eli said dropping a lemon slice into his cup. ‘She’s quite a connoisseur. She takes tea at three every afternoon. She likes to make sure all her employees are properly equipped with the necessary tea etiquette for polite society.’

‘Oh.' Blaine blinked. 'I see. Well that's, um, useful.'

'She's also given me extensive instruction in deportment and elocution.' Eli straightened his posture a little, glancing around as if the great lady herself were there watching.

'You’re very lucky to have a boss that takes such an interest in you and your life.’ Blaine said uncertainly. He was aware of Lauren and Kitty giggling and snorting behind Eli, but luckily Eli seemed oblivious. 

Eli’s expression turned to rapture. ‘Oh I’m truly blessed. I couldn’t wish for a more considerate, thoughtful employer. A lot of people think she’s uppity, but she’s never been anything but wonderful to me. She invited me to join her for one of her dinners three times last month!’

Eli’s shining eyes indicated that this was obviously a good thing. Blaine leaned his elbows on the kitchen island. He wondered what the odds were of a helpful sinkhole opening up under his feet right now. Slim to none, realistically, but still worth a prayer, he figured. ‘What is it Mrs Dolloway does?’

Eli dropped his teaspoon on the table with a clatter. ‘You haven’t heard of her?’ 

‘Um, I don’t think so, sorry.’ Blaine shrugged apologetically.

Eli frowned a little. ‘She’s a very well-known person of influence in the arts scene in New York, particularly Broadway. She invests a great deal of time and money in production, performers, charitable schemes, that sort of thing.’

‘Oh. That sounds interesting. Does she perform herself?’

‘No, she had some health issues which sadly prevented her.’ Eli looked genuinely upset. Blaine could have sworn he heard him sniffle. Then Eli brightened, leaning toward Blaine. ‘Because of that, as I tell her myself often, she has deprived Broadway of its brightest ornament.’ He smiled a little and patted Blaine’s hand, lowering his voice conspiratorially. ‘I've noticed that these are the kinds of observations that make her happy. I find I can’t help but make them, when I’m around her.’

‘And rightly so!’ Interjected Kitty, causing a pleased flush to spread over Eli’s cheeks. ‘Women eat that sort of thing up. It's a _tragedy_ that you're gay, really. Tell me Eli, do you find that you think of these things mostly in the moment or do you try to plan them out in advance?’ Her eyes glittered with mirth, but Eli took her completely seriously.

‘Well mainly I think of them on the spur of the moment, but I admit that I find it an enjoyable pastime to think up some little flatteries in advance and jot them down.’ Kitty’s eyes went wide as he produced a small notebook from his inside pocket and waved it with a flourish and Blaine suppressed a groan. If he were a betting man he'd put his last dollar on Kitty having pick-pocketed it before the night was out, so she and Lauren could dissect it over a glass (who was he kidding - bottle) of wine, and then post it up on the internet somewhere.

‘A notebook! Genius! I like a man who’s well prepared,’ she declared. Blaine tried his best to kick her under the table but she kept nimbly moving her feet away, so he gave her his best bitch-glare instead.

‘Thank you.’ Eli inclined his head modestly and smoothed his hair. ‘Although,’ he said, seriously meeting her gaze, ‘when I give them I do try to give them as unstudied an air as possible. Otherwise it could be creepy.’

Blaine’s foot finally hit its target, and not a moment too soon as Lauren was weeping tears of laughter into a paper towel, her apples long forgotten. Kitty glared at Blaine and then grabbed Lauren by the arm. ‘Well, Eli, I think we need to be going. Such a pleasure. Enjoy your tea with a squirt.'

'Spritz!' Blaine called out, alarmed. 'Tea with a _spritz!_ No um, uh... squirting...' He barely resisted the urge to face-palm. He was pretty sure if his cheeks got any hotter he would set his own hair on fire.

'Well you never know, Blainers - the night is still young, after all! Have a _lovely_ dinner, won’t you?’ She smiled at Blaine, sweetly sarcastic, before exiting, her blonde ponytail swinging jauntily.

‘See you again soon!’ Eli said cheerfully. He sipped his tea. ‘She seems very nice.’

Blaine stared at him. He could not be serious. How could he not have known Kitty was making fun of him? He surreptitiously checked the corners of the room for cameras in case he was being punk'd.

Eli drained his cup and stood to go. ‘Say Blaine, in my car I have a couple of boxes of programmes from shows June – June Dolloway, that is, my boss – has invested in. I thought I could show them to you after dinner?’

‘Sure,’ he said weakly. 'Love to.' 

'Excellent! There's almost two hundred of them, and I almost never get the time to go through them all any more!'

Blaine wordlessly allowed himself to be led from the room, wondering desperately if it was too late to hook Sam up with a laser hand after all. 

*

The rest of the night went in much the same fashion.

Blaine heard more about June Dolloway than he would have wanted to know in a lifetime, and additionally it turned out that Eli Collins was a moron. An unbelievably mind-numbingly boring moron. 

Blaine had never met anyone so tediously self-important before, and that was really saying something because he’d grown up on the country club circuit. He thought he’d seen pontificating at its worst, but nothing could have prepared him for Eli in full flow on the subject of his employer.

The Collins family were wealthy, but Mr Collins Sr. wanted his son to know the value of work, so once Eli had graduated from college he managed to score him a job as a project manager for June, where he had been working for three years, splitting his time between New York and Ohio where June was patroness of a scheme offering free theatre workshops to troubled teens.

‘God, that’s an incredible idea!’ Blaine lit up with interest. ‘Was it yours?’ He couldn’t see why June would have chosen Columbus otherwise. 

A look of irritation passed briefly over Eli’s face. ‘No,’ he said tightly, tearing his paper napkin to shreds. ‘It was someone else’s.’

An awkward silence hung between them. Blaine searched for something to say to fill it, and settled on, ‘I’m majoring in Musical Education at OSU.’ He hadn't managed to impart any information about himself over the course of the evening. Maybe the tide was turning!

Alas, it merely set Eli off about June’s patronage of a drama programme for a middle school in Brooklyn, which turned into a thirty-minute tangent on her advice on whether he was a summer or a winter in terms of skin coloring (as far as Blaine could tell, Eli was the sort of waxy white that meant he had to be the most arctic of winters because surely he’d never even seen the sun, with skin like that).

June Dolloway had evidently taken a great interest in not only Eli’s work, but every aspect of his personal life, giving him recommendations (it seemed to Blaine that they were less recommendations than they were thinly veiled orders) on home décor, cars, vacations: everything. Even Eli’s dentist was sanctioned by June. And now Blaine knew about all of it, whether he’d wanted to or not. 

Every time Blaine tried to steer the conversation onto something else Eli determinedly dragged it back to June, and eventually Blaine gave up and zoned out, leaning his head in his hand and nodding absently every so often as he whiled away the time dreaming of his coffee date with Sebastian the following day, not listening to Eli as he kept rambling on. 

‘And so last week, when I was at one of her dinners – the third one in a month, you know – she leaned over and she said to me, ‘Eli,’ she said, ‘it’s time you settled down with a nice boy!’, and of course she’s absolutely right, it is time, so I’m really looking for a long term, serious commitment with someone who’s right for me in June’s estimations. I’m assuming we’re on the same page, there?’ Eli looked at Blaine expectantly.

‘Uh huh.’ Blaine said, not hearing a word of it, lost as he was in his fantasy coffee and make-out date with Sebastian, whose fantasy kisses turned out to be excellent. ‘Sure.’ 

*

Across town, Kurt lay on his hotel bed, arms folded behind his head.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he wrestled with his emotions. He was irritated with himself. What was it about Ohio that made him have crushes on unattainable boys? He remembered the frustration and rejection of years of unrequited love for boys who invariably turned out to be straight. How incredibly freeing it was, now as an adult, to be allowed – encouraged, begged – to kiss, hold, touch boys. 

He sighed out loudly and turned his face to his pillow. Stupid Ohio. 

He kept mentally replaying the brief conversation he’d had with Blaine the other night - the night of the Thai take-out and ass-shaking. He had been in the middle of planning a truly epic party with Mercedes when she had gone in search of a drink and not come back (Kurt suspected she had been intercepted by Sam, and he couldn't begrudge her kisses). It was then that he’d noticed Chandler talking to Blaine, leaning up against the wall, hip cocked provocatively, shooting flirtatious glances back over his shoulder at Kurt. 

_‘What are you gossiping about over there, like a couple of old ladies?’ Kurt called out, amused._

_Chandler gasped in mock-outrage. ‘How dare you!’ He turned back to Blaine. ‘How dare he? We are not gossiping like old ladies, we were actually in the middle of a_ highly _intellectual discussion. You’re welcome to join us if you want to.’_

_Kurt sat back in his chair. ‘Ah, but that would defeat the object.’_

_Chandler jutted his backside out even more and pouted. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’_

_‘Well either you are having a good old secretive gossip, in which case my presence is unwelcome, or you’re up there leaning against the wall like that because you know it shows off your… assets…’ He ran an eye appreciatively over the two men in front of him, 'and my joining you would defeat the purpose.' Blaine was blushing, but kept his chin high and his gaze steady. Kurt liked his feistiness so much more than was good for him._

_‘Have you ever heard anyone make such outrageous accusations in all your life?’ Chandler pressed his hand to his chest, dramatically, turning back to Kurt. 'I can’t believe you’d say such a thing!'_

_‘Well then it seems like you don’t know me very well at all,’ Kurt responded drily._

_‘Have you ever heard anyone be so rude, Blaine? I think we should punish him. I say we hide his new Gucci shoes.’_

_Blaine’s eyes twinkled. ‘Nah, nothing as easy as that! Though I did sellotape Sam’s shoes to the back of the living room door once. Took him three days to find them. Good times!’ He grinned. ‘But for Kurt I’d bet that nothing is worse than being teased… Laughed at… You seem to know him, um, intimately. You must know what buttons to push.’_

_‘Not really.’ Chandler made a dismissive hand gesture. ‘Kurt’s perfect, just look at him.’_

_Kurt rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Chandler, everybody has faults._

_Blaine’s head snapped up. ‘Faults? Like, ooh, vanity… and pride?’ He held Kurt’s gaze._

_Kurt cleared his throat. ‘Well… Vanity is a weakness, yes. But having pride in yourself, when it’s warranted, is fair I think. My dad always said you should take pride in yourself. But I think everybody has some sort of personality flaw that they can’t ever quite correct, no matter how hard they work on it.’_

_Blaine raised an eyebrow, and with a half-smile said ‘And your flaw is what? A propensity to hate everyone?’_

_‘While yours,’ Kurt said with a smirk, ‘is to wilfully misunderstand them.’_

_The two men stared at each other. ‘So enlighten us, then - what’s the big character flaw that you’re working on?’ Blaine asked._

_Kurt pursed his lips. ‘I... Honestly, I have been known to have something of a… resentful temper. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.’ He didn’t know why he was being so open with someone who was essentially a complete stranger._

_Blaine took a few steps towards Kurt and crouched down in front of him, studying his face. Kurt resisted the urge to squirm away under the intensity of his eyes._

_‘Well that is quite a flaw,’ Blaine agreed. ‘But I can’t laugh at it. Which is a shame, because I really like to laugh.’ His expression was soft – something like pity, Kurt thought. Anger flared in his belly. He didn’t need pity from anyone, especially not here, and not now. He stood up abruptly and strode from the room, with just a curt nod towards Blaine, Chandler following at his heels._

Kurt curled his hands into fists, stomach roiling with embarrassment and anger, and annoyingly, arousal. Blaine’s intensity and spirited conversation was just too much of a turn on. 

He tensed up slightly as there was a soft knock on the door. After a second Chandler poked his head into the room. ‘Hey,’ he whispered.

‘Hey.’ Kurt said back, softly.

‘Want company tonight?’ Chandler's voice was low, and probably supposed to be seductive.

Kurt hesitated. His first thought was Blaine, but he knew that would never happen – could never happen. And Chandler was warm, and willing, and he supposed at least he could work out some of his frustration this way.

He nodded. ‘Yeah. Come on in.’

As he moved over to make room in his bed he tried to remind himself how good it felt to be touched and desired and wanted, putting aside his thoughts of Blaine’s pretty hazel eyes as Chandler drew him into his arms.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments, it's wonderful xx

Blaine stretched out in his chair, breathing in deeply. The scent of freshly roasted coffee beans was richly delicious. Not as delicious, however, as Sebastian, who was sitting opposite him in a gorgeously tailored coat, regarding his own medium drip with some trepidation.

‘Ugh, I hate Ohio coffee shops. So provincial.’ Sebastian leaned over the table. ‘You know, when I was in Paris I drank Courvoisier like it was mother’s milk.’

‘Wow…’ Blaine breathed. ‘You’ve been to Paris?’ 

Sebastian was so sophisticated and worldly. Blaine couldn’t help but be dazzled by him. He noticed how Sebastian commanded the attention of every room he was in. He was definitely handsome, and he was also effortlessly charming (he’d somehow managed to get his coffee for free from a slightly flustered, blushing barista), but he also had a compelling, sensual energy that he fully embraced. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin. It seemed like men and women alike couldn’t help but check him out. Blaine couldn’t really understand why Sebastian had chosen to take an interest in _him,_ but he certainly wasn’t complaining. 

Sebastian smirked. ‘I had a very privileged childhood, way back when. Before everything happened with Kurt Hummel, anyway.’ His pretty features darkened. ‘How, um… how long has Kurt been in town?’

‘A few weeks.’ Blaine bit his lip. He knew it was impolite to ask, but he was dying of curiosity, and Sebastian _had_ been the one to bring it up after all. ‘What, um… What actually happened with Kurt, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking? He hasn’t made too many friends around here. Honestly? He’s been kind of an ass.’ He dropped his voice conspiratorially, wrapping his hands around his mug, enjoying the warmth that spread through his fingers.

Sebastian sighed, sadness settling into his face and seeping down into his posture. ‘Oh I couldn’t really say – I’ve known him too long to give an unbiased opinion. Hummel and I… we go way back. Practically grew up together, if you can believe it. We were like brothers.’

‘Really?’ Blaine’s eyes went wide. ‘I never knew that. What happened?’

‘Well…’ Blaine watched as Sebastian sipped his coffee, and found himself swallowing hard as the pink tip of his tongue darted out over his bottom lip. ‘I lived next door to him. We did everything together. My dad was State’s Attorney and his was a local mechanic, so I went to Dalton and Kurt went to McKinley, but other than that we were inseparable. We planned to go to college together and everything. After I graduated from Dalton I came out to my Dad, who immediately disowned me. Kicked me out.’

‘Oh, Seb…’ Blaine breathed, his chest aching for him. He reached out to cover Sebastian’s hand with his own, and Seb turned his hand over and linked their fingers together. Seb’s skin was cool and soft. 

‘Thanks.’ Seb met his gaze, his expression soft. He blew out a sigh. ‘Burt Hummel – that’s Kurt’s dad – he took me in. I stayed in their spare room. I’d known him all my life, he was like a second dad to me. He was the greatest guy. He’d become a congressman a couple of years before, you know? To fight for arts in education, to fight for Kurt’s rights, and mine, to get married someday…’ Sebastian flicked a glance up at Blaine, who felt a little light-headed at Seb’s casual comfort with mentioning marriage around him. His heart fluttered in his chest as Seb smiled coyly and took another sip of coffee. After a moment he continued.

‘He’d had a heart attack, back when we were fifteen or sixteen. He was in a coma for days. Kurt was devastated. I was there through it all. He seemed well enough, in himself. Took the doctors’ advice about diet and exercise. He looked well. No-one saw the second heart attack coming, least of all Kurt. One day his dad was alive and kicking, talking to Kurt about tire pressures and his application to NYADA. The next he was gone.’ Seb’s voice shook. 

Blaine squeezed his hand harder. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Seb nodded. ‘I still miss him every day. After I moved in with them Burt spoke often with me and Kurt about his putting me through college. He was a business owner, and then with his congressman salary on top, he was able to afford it. He knew my dad had disowned me in every way and wouldn’t put anything towards my education, and he wanted to make sure I was taken care of. I was so excited to be able to go to New York with Kurt, like we’d planned.’ Seb’s eyes shone. ‘But then, after Burt died… when it came time to sign the money over to me… Kurt refused.’ Seb looked away sharply, fighting back tears.

‘What?’ Blaine cried, outraged. ‘He withheld it from you? Against his father’s wishes? Why would he do that? Is that even legal?’

Seb nodded, sadly. ‘Well it was a verbal agreement. Burt never had a chance to put it officially in his will. I don’t know why Kurt refused to honor it. I never got a straight answer out of him. But it’s my belief that he was jealous of how close Burt and I became. His mom died when he was young, and Burt was all he had.’

Blaine ran a hand through his hair distractedly. ‘Seb, that’s terrible! I can’t believe anyone could be so heartless!’

Seb shrugged. ‘It meant Kurt and I didn’t head off to college together as we’d planned. He went, of course, with Rachel Berry. He graduated from NYADA, became one of Dolloway’s Darlings, and the rest is history. I couldn’t go to college at all, in the end.’

‘Oh Seb, I… I don’t know what to say…’ Blaine’s heart bled for Seb.

‘I went to New York anyway, tried to make it regardless. Once I even got a gig as Kurt’s understudy, but he had me fired. I guess he was afraid I’d say something to the rest of the cast.’ Seb leaned forward and met Blaine’s eyes, earnestly. ‘But I never would have, Blaine, honestly. I have way too much respect for his dad, and I still… I still care for him like a brother. I’d love it if we could still be friends, but he just… doesn’t want to know me.’

‘My god, Seb…’ Blaine’s heart hurt with how much loss Sebastian had had to go through – first his family, then Burt, then his dreams of college which had briefly and oh-so-cruelly glittered before him, only to be wrenched away at the last minute. It was just so _wrong._

‘Do you think less of me? For not having been to college?’ Seb worried his lower lip between his teeth.

‘No! Not at all! If anything I’m… incredibly impressed, humbled even, by how magnanimous you’re being about it all. I don’t think I could be so generous in your situation.’ Blaine placed his other hand over Sebastian’s, trying to reassure him with the comfort of his touch. ‘I just hope Kurt’s being around won’t affect your plans to stick around for a while.’ He flashed Seb a smile, which was returned.

‘No, not at all.’ Seb straightened his shoulders. ‘If he doesn’t want to see me then _he_ can go. We’re not on good terms, and god knows I can’t be around him without it bringing up a thousand memories of his father, who I loved. But I believe I’d forgive him anything rather than him disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.’

‘God, Seb…’ Blaine shook his head in disbelief. ‘I’m stunned, honestly. And I just can’t believe Kurt would be so cruel to you. I knew he was a strange guy – arrogant, you know? But this is just… But then he did tell me the other day that he has a resentful temper…’ Blaine sat back in his chair, reeling.

Sebastian tilted his head, looking at Blaine through his lashes. ‘I believe you would have a hard time thinking badly of _anyone_ because you’re so nice.’

Blaine blushed, heart skittering. ‘Wait, did you say Rachel Berry?’

Sebastian nodded. ‘They lived together during college. Still do, I believe. She’s like a sister to him.’

‘Is _she_ nice, at least?’

Sebastian pursed his lips. ‘I wish I could say good things about her. I really do. When we were young she was very sweet. Prodigious, and she knew exactly how talented she was, but she was basically sweet. But then in New York she became more like Kurt; really stuck up and full of herself, selfish and thoughtless.’

Blaine drained his coffee, trying to take it all in. He’d never heard of anyone behaving so badly in his life. _Oh god,_ he suddenly thought, _what kind of person might Mercedes be, if Kurt was her best friend?_

‘Do you know Mercedes Jones at all?’ He tried to keep his voice light and casual, and not show the sudden shaking in his hands. Sam was well on his way to being in love with her, after all.

‘No. They met during Kurt’s senior year. We were all so busy with Glee clubs and college applications that we never had the chance to meet.’

‘She seems really sweet. I can’t believe she knows what he did…’

‘Maybe not. If I were Kurt I wouldn’t be broadcasting it, so it’s very possible she doesn’t know.’ 

Blaine huffed out a breath, sagging in relief. Then something clicked and he sat up straight. ‘Hey, did you say Kurt was one of Dolloway’s Darlings? As in June Dolloway?’

‘Yeah. I heard she saw him after he sang at a concert NYADA held to celebrate her investing a shit-ton of money in them. She pretty much paved his way with diamonds after that. She threw him benefits, got him auditions. He’s had a charmed life.’ Sebastian looked resigned, rather than bitter. Blaine thought Sebastian had to be the nicest guy in the whole world.

‘It’s hard to believe in karma when things like that happen, huh?’ Blaine shook his head with a bittersweet little smile.

Sebastian shrugged and smiled over sweetly. ‘I’m happy it’s worked out for him. And it’s worked out for me, too. Here I am, after all. With you.’ His eyes twinkled, making Blaine’s breath hitch in his throat. 

Blaine couldn’t keep the grin off his face. ‘Well that’s true.’

Sebastian looked deeply into his eyes, then leaned over and very slowly ran his thumb over the corner of Blaine’s mouth. ‘Coffee…’ he breathed, eyes dancing with amusement at Blaine’s stunned expression. ‘You know,’ he said softly, letting his hand cup Blaine’s face for just a second. ‘I’m beginning to think there’s something to this karma idea after all…’ 

Blaine’s stomach flipped, and he blushed, ducking his head. _Maybe there is,_ he thought, watching Sebastian’s slow smile. _Maybe there is._


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments, which I love reading! 
> 
> This fic does essentially follow the bones of the plot of P&P, so Kurt will be taking a bigger role in upcoming chapters.

Blaine discovered, maybe for the first time in his life, the far-reaching effects a good date can have. For a start it seemed to allow him to defy the laws of physics, because he levitated the whole way home, hardly touching the ground at all. It seemed to him that the sun was shining a little more brightly, the air was a little sweeter. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling, remembering the tingles that spread through him every time Sebastian met his eyes.

It also seemed to wipe his short-term memory, because it wasn’t until his butt had floated all the way home and landed on his couch that he realised, with a guilty little jolt, that he hadn’t thought about what he was going to do about Eli since he’d fallen asleep the night before.

There was no potential there, he was very sure of that. Eli could never make him happy, and he was the last guy in the world who could make Eli so. He just had to figure out how to break it off without upsetting him and potentially jeopardising any business dealings their fathers might be brokering. He hoped Eli would be okay about it. Blaine really didn’t want to hurt his feelings, it was just that Sebastian was so much… _more._ His fingers picked at a loose thread on a sofa cushion, restlessly. He wasn’t good at coping with letting people down. He checked his phone to find a _**‘Thanks for the coffee, Killer’**_ from Sebastian, along with a winky face, but nothing from Eli. He sighed in relief. He would wait, he decided, until he heard from Eli. Eli probably didn’t even want to pursue anything with him anyway, so his worrying was all for nothing. 

‘Hey, man!’ Sam wandered in from the kitchen, balancing two mugs and an enormous sandwich.

‘Hey!’ Blaine beamed at him as he arranged himself on the couch next to Blaine.

‘Good date?’ Sam passed him one of the mugs of coffee and nudged half of the sandwich towards him.

‘Ohh chicken salad, thanks, you’re a legend. My date? Um, which one?’ Blaine asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

Sam laughed. ‘And you call me a legend, you player!’ He bumped his fist gently into Blaine’s shoulder. 

Blaine blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Oh my god, shut up. If you must know, my dinner with Eli was as terrible as expected if not actually a little worse. My coffee date with Sebastian was… good.’ He couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face. ‘Except…’ he felt the grin slip, ‘except he told me some stuff about Kurt which was a little concerning.’

‘Really?’ Sam spoke with his mouth full. ‘He knows Kurt? What stuff?’

Blaine paused for a second, debating whether it was appropriate to tell Sam everything. This was intensely personal stuff, after all. After a moment he decided to confide in Sam, partly to warn him, and partly because he trusted Sam absolutely and he didn’t think he could keep his outrage locked away. He needed to vent to someone. Sam listened carefully, eyes growing wider and wider, as Blaine repeated what Sebastian had told him, hands waving around as he spoke, impassioned.

‘Woah… that’s like, super cray, dude.’ Sam shook his head.

‘I know! Unbelievable, right?’

Sam laughed a little ‘Kinda, yeah. Are you sure, though? Maybe Seb got his wires crossed, or maybe Kurt did… Maybe it’s just a big misunderstanding?’ 

Blaine huffed out a sardonic laugh. Sam’s guilelessness was one of the reasons Blaine loved him, but it was also incredibly frustrating. 

‘Sam… I know that you’re trying to be the voice of reason, and I know that you want Mercedes not to be best friends with an asshole. But sometimes, Sam…’ Blaine ran his hand through his hair. ‘Sometimes guys just aren’t nice. Sometimes they’re just bad dudes.’ Blaine tore a bite off his sandwich. 

‘I know that, but life isn’t always as black and white as all that. I just wonder if – oh, hang on…’ Sam was interrupted by his phone chirping out Stevie Wonder’s ‘Isn’t She Lovely’. Blaine smirked to himself. Oh, Sam had it bad… 

Sam glared at him and pointed, hissing ‘Don’t you say a word! It’s a classic, just like she is!’, then he slid his thumb over the screen. ‘Hey, ‘Cedes!’

Blaine sat back on the couch, laughing, half listening to Sam’s murmured conversation. It turned out that the New York guys were actually making good on their word to hold a party. They had booked out the ballroom at the Netherfield and were having some sort of swanky black tie affair. Blaine tried to get more details about the dress code but Sam was too busy waxing lyrical about the food – something about how baby cupcakes made him feel like the Hulk – so he shot off a text to the girls letting them know the date and location, knowing they would require as much time as possible to panic and flail about dress options. He immediately got several responses made up mostly of exclamation points. 

He wondered if he should invite Sebastian… Probably not, although it seemed like it was Mercedes’ party rather than Kurt’s and maybe she wouldn’t mind. Hopefully the party would be big enough that he could avoid Kurt. 

He texted Sebastian back a ‘Had a great time today. We should do it again, soon!’ and was highly gratified by the almost immediate response:

_**Come see my matinee tomorrow? Bring friends. Tons of eligible bachelors here! ;)** _

Oh, that winky face again. Blaine never would have thought a simple emoticon would do it for him, but it was just so _Sebastian._ An excited warmth spread through him. Seb was seeking out _his_ company. That just didn’t happen to Blaine (to this day every time he had a brief flashback to the Gap Attack debacle shame curled hotly in his stomach) and it turned out that he really liked it. 

He checked with his girls and Thad, smiling as he got another round of texted exclamation points in response. He was looking forward to showing Sebastian off a little. Sam had wandered off to his room, phone glued to his ear, so he sent Sebastian an affirmation, grabbed a beer and then settled down to catch up on Project Runway All Stars, which was so terrible it was awesome (although the lack of Tim Gunn was a travesty). He made a mental note to be extra rigorous in his sloughing before bed that night. He needed to be as perfect for Seb as Seb was for him. 

* 

The Ohio Theater wasn’t exactly Broadway, but it was still really, really pretty, Blaine decided as he settled into his seat. He’d been there before, countless times, but somehow it had never looked as good as it did right now.

The matinee was about three-quarters full, the familiar hum of anticipatory chatter falling over the audience. Blaine thrilled to it. He always did. He still missed being on stage like this. The pull of being under the lights, being before an audience, being someone else for a while - it was like an ache in his chest. Tina grabbed his hand and chattered excitedly into his ear, distracting him pleasantly until the lights dimmed. 

Sebastian played one of the Jets, effortlessly cool and sexy in leather. He had very few lines, but Blaine thought he still stole the show. He was almost sure Seb threw him a wink during one of the songs, which made him kick his feet a little and bite his lip. 

After the play was finished and Blaine had clapped until his palms were sore, they headed backstage to where Seb was waiting in a large dressing along with several other boys, all still clad in tight jeans and white t shirts, some still with their leather jackets on. 

‘Hi,’ Blaine greeted Seb breathlessly, ‘you were incredible, we loved it.'

Seb gave him a slow grin in return, then introduced himself to Blaine’s girls, who seemed to be thoroughly charmed by him. Thad was a touch more reserved, stepping up to shake Seb’s hand and congratulate him on the play. After Kitty had dropped several very loud hints about being introduced to the rest of the cast, Seb led them over to the sofas where five or six guys greeted them enthusiastically, jumping up to let them sit. 

Blaine stood back for a moment. He was only interested in one guy. He watched Seb chat easily with Lauren, laughing at something she said, and then he looked over and caught Blaine’s eye and winked, and okay that one was definitely all for Blaine. 

‘Blaine?’ He was surprised out of his happy reverie by the least welcome of voices. He swallowed a little, then turned. Eli was standing there, dressed in work-wear, a happy smile on his face. 

‘Hi Eli. What are you doing here?’ It was hard to muster up much enthusiasm. 

‘I’m here regularly, having meetings with the management about the workshops we run for troubled teens.’ If Eli had noticed Sebastian’s wink he didn’t show it. ‘Fancy running into you here! Unless you, um, _wanted_ to run into me?’ Eli flushed a little and bumped Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine thought this was probably the single most awkward moment of his entire existence so far, including the GAP Attack and that time he’d tried to serenade Sam during Glee Club in Senior Year. 

‘Oh, haha, no, just a happy accident. I’m here watching my friend in West Side Story.’ Blaine gestured vaguely over to the sofas, where Seb was watching them with a casually amused air. He leant forward and whispered something to Kitty, who turned her head to see. Blaine made wide ‘help me!’ eyes at her, and immediately she jumped to her feet and ran over. 

_Thank god,_ thought Blaine, _my saviour._

‘Eli!’ Kitty threw her arm around him in a hug. ‘Good to see you! Isn’t it good to see him, Blaine?’ She made sure her tone was low and suggestive. 

Blaine knew immediately what a terrible mistake he’d made in picking Kitty as the recipient of his ‘help me’ eyes. Far too late his brain screamed _‘Abort! Abort! Choose Thad, you idiot! Abort!’_

He cleared his throat. Oh yeah, he needed actual non-crazy words. ‘Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s great.’ Blaine smiled half-heartedly. 

‘Blaine was just saying to me this morning how he hoped he’d see _more_ of you.’ Kitty’s smile was sweetly evil. Blaine hated her. 

Poor Eli had turned bright red and seemed to be choking on air. 

‘Ooh!’ Kitty exclaimed, all innocence, ‘You should come to Mercedes’ party! Right, Blaine?’ 

_Oh, god no._ Blaine was going to kill her. He was going to Google ‘hideous voodoo spells for killing your traitorous roommate as painfully as possible’ the minute he got home. He didn’t care if he needed a Kitty-puppet, a chicken and some waxing moonlight, he was going to make her suffer. 

Kitty barrelled relentlessly on. ‘It’s next weekend, black tie, very exclusive. I bet you scrub up beautifully.’ She leaned in to be close to Eli’s ear. ‘Our Blainers here looks _spectacular_ in a tux.’ 

Blaine shot her a look which he hoped managed to effectively convey _‘I don’t love you anymore you heinous bitch and if it takes me every day for the rest of my life I will make sure you pay for this’._

Eli had started to sweat lightly, and was shifting from one foot to the other, trying and failing to not look at Blaine. ‘Um, next weekend could work, yes. I’ll just need to check that June won’t need me.’ 

‘Excellent!’ Kitty said brightly, blithely ignoring the stink-eye she was getting from Blaine. ‘Well see you then, I hope, Eli. Blaine, the girls and I are taking Seb and some of the boys for coffee. We’ll give you guys some space.’ Then she twirled off like a bubbly, blonde she-demon, leaving Blaine and Eli in uncomfortable silence as she whisked the group of girls and actors out into the corridor. 

Blaine couldn’t manage to do anything but stand there, gaping like a fish, staring at the space where Seb had been. _What the hell just happened…?_

‘So do you have time for coffee?’ Eli asked, oblivious to Blaine’s discomfort. 

‘Um…’ Blaine’s brain groped desperately for an excuse, but came up with nothing. 

‘He doesn’t, I’m afraid, but I have some time if you’d care to accompany me?’ Thad stepped back into the room, gentlemanlike, and at that moment the most beautiful person Blaine had ever seen. He smiled brilliantly at him in gratitude. _See?_ His brain said. _Shoulda gone with Thad. Everything about Thad screams ‘heroic saviour’. Kitty, Blaine? Really?_

Eli smiled blandly. ‘Oh.’ He looked over at Blaine uncertainly. ‘Well if it’s alright with Blaine…’ 

‘Yes!’ Blaine almost shouted, wincing at himself. ‘Um, yeah. Eli this is Thad, he’s my best friend and all round fantastic guy. You should absolutely have coffee.’ 

Thad put out his hand for Eli to shake, smiling gently. ‘On me,’ he said, ‘I’ll even throw in some childhood anecdotes about Blaine, and a biscotti.’ 

‘Well, alright…’ Eli shook Thad’s hand and smoothed his hair. Blaine had to admit that Eli cut quite a smart figure in his expensive work suit – no doubt supervised by Ms. June Dolloway. 

Blaine wrapped Thad in a tight hug. _‘Thank you...’_ he breathed fervently into his ear. 

Thad squeezed him back. ‘You owe me one. Now go find your guy.’ He whispered. Then he linked his arm in Eli’s, and led him towards the door with a wave at Blaine. 

Blaine didn’t need to be told twice. He’d deal with Kitty, and Eli’s unexpected presence at Mercedes’ party, later. For now he just wanted to spend more time with Sebastian. 


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Kurt interlude, just because I love him :)
> 
> There'll be a meatier chapter about the ball from Blaine's perspective, up next.
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments! xx

By the time Kurt’s appraising eye was satisfied with both the preparations and his own person, and he’d arrived back in the Netherfield Hotel ballroom, guests had already started to arrive. It was a ballroom in only the loosest sense of the word, being fairly large but plain and rectangular. It at least had an area of hardwood floor for dancing, and a raised stage for the band. Kurt had pulled some strings and organised an excellent local swing band, and from the sound of them they were worth every favour he’d cashed in. 

The carpeted area of the room was dotted with tables covered in crisp white linens, sparkling crystal candelabra centrepieces wound through with dark green foliage, and glassware made of actual _glass._ Kurt had made very sure of that last point. He still had nightmares about those red solo cups. 

A champagne mixer bar had been set up in the corner, with bartenders who did fancy flippy things with cocktail shakers and also managed to look extremely good in their tuxes. Kurt smiled when one of them flashed him a coy look from under his eyelashes. He did like a guy who could multi-task. He accepted a bellini from the guy, savouring the bubbles and the summer-peach sweetness on his tongue. 

He allowed himself a pleased little hum. He’d had to bring in extra lighting and hire different chairs because he’d examined the ones that were there and god, ew, and the whole thing had cost a fortune, especially to pull together on such short notice, but Kurt Hummel had never settled for anything less than perfection, especially when it came to parties. He took a vantage point off to the side of the room, so he could watch people arrive for a while and enjoy a few moments of smug satisfaction at how gorgeous everything looked. All the crystal and glassware glittered atmospherically, and the low bass of the band spread through the room, adding to the buzz of excitement he could feel building in the air. Kurt could already see people moving their shoulders to the beat. People would be up dancing before long. He'd made sure the band would accommodate people singing with them - he feels like there's no better feeling in the world than singing with a live band. 

Quinn arrived in an elegant, pale blue dress that showed off her lovely colouring. Puck had at least made an effort in a suit, even if he did look rumpled enough to suggest he’d been up to no good before he got there. At Kurt’s raised eyebrow Puck smirked and gave a double thumbs up, which confirmed every suspicion Kurt had. He had helped Mercedes choose a beautiful dark aubergine gown with a crystal encrusted waistband, and he had personally overseen her make up (all those childhood years perfecting smokey eyes on his dolls were definitely paying off, even though they had always been over-dressed for afternoon tea). She was a goddess, in Kurt’s expert opinion. He hoped Sam worked damn hard to deserve her.

He was pleased to see Artie had shown up, even if he had brought that awful screechy Motta girl with him. The room was starting to fill up, and he was just about to head back to the kitchens to make sure that the canapes were ready to go when Blaine’s arrival stopped him in his tracks. He himself had chosen a fairly subdued (for Kurt) Alexander McQueen suit in a black and navy skull print, with a white shirt and pocket square and a – frankly, _fabulous_ \- houndstooth tie. He’d gone for restrained but not boring – after all no-one ever manages to stand out in a plain black tux. 

Except up until that point he’d never seen Blaine Anderson work a tuxedo, because _damn._ It clearly wasn’t designer, or even top-end high street, but Blaine had made sure it fit really, _really_ well, and he’d added his own little bit of flare with a designer silk bow-tie and shoes that looked to be from several seasons ago but were still classically beautiful. He'd slicked back his hair and Kurt had the unnerving, room-spinning sensation that Gene Kelly had shown up to his party.

He saw Blaine’s tasteful, restrained hand in Lauren’s navy dress and sparkly flats, and even in Kitty’s pretty up-do with soft tendrils that framed her face. He watched as Blaine’s eyes lingered longingly on the band up on the stage. He wondered what Blaine was still doing in Ohio. The guy was clearly talented and easy on the eye, and he heard through Mercedes that he was a hard worker. He had to want more out of life than anything Dullsville had to offer. 

Kurt suddenly found himself with an armful of Chandler, who seemed to be too excited to be able to form actual words and had settled on a prolonged, high pitch squeal instead. 

‘Hey, Chan.’ Kurt patted his back awkwardly and then subtly but firmly pushed Chandler away a little. 

‘Kurt, you look positively sinful!’ Chandler winked at him flirtatiously, and then did a little spin. ‘What do you think?’

Kurt took in Chandler’s very expensive, very over the top bottle green suit. The pants looked like they’d been spray painted onto him, and the jacket seemed to be mostly made of feathers. A few weeks ago Kurt might have thought it was fabulous. But now… He stole a look over Chandler’s shoulder at Blaine, who was chatting with Sam and Mercedes. Blaine looked sophisticated and elegant, and sort of like the romantic hero in every one of Kurt’s fantasies growing up (except the hot policeman fantasy, but Kurt would definitely not object if Blaine ever wanted to try on that look for size). In comparison Chandler looked… sort of cheap. If Chandler was a peacock, all show and posturing ostentation, then Blaine was like one of those understated blackbirds who seem simple but which actually have that exquisite, iridescent sheen when you take the time to look closely enough. Maybe that was exactly it – Blaine was a blackbird, stuck in Ohio, waiting to fly.

Luckily Chandler never really seemed to need a response from Kurt, so he hadn’t noticed Kurt zoning out. He handed Chandler his glass and took advantage of the momentary silence to slip away.

Before he’d really registered where he was going, Kurt found himself in front of Blaine, doing that staring thing he was really driving himself crazy with. Usually he was good at words, like _really_ good at words. But every time he got near enough to Blaine to be able to smell his aftershave he got all fuzzy in the head and weak at the knees, and all of his words left him except 'hngh'. 

‘Hi.’ Blaine said, smiling politely. 

_Of course. Hi. Why couldn’t Kurt have thought of that?_

‘Yes! Hi!’ Kurt cringed internally, because _god,_ but he was already there so he figured he might as well just go for it. ‘Would you dance with me, later?’

‘Me? Dance? With you?’ Blaine looked around, eyes comically wide. 

Kurt blinked a few times. ‘Yeah…’ 

_Fuck._ He really wasn’t sure how to get out of this with any of his dignity left intact at all. He didn’t know why he was doing this. It’s not like he could actually _be_ with someone like Blaine. God knows he couldn’t be tethered to Ohio, or to anything, really. It would be too suffocating after finally finding his freedom in New York. But he was tempted, so tempted, for the first time in forever.

‘I… Um… Well I have to… Uh. Yeah, okay.’ Blaine’s stuttering was so adorable Kurt forgot about regretting making a move. 

‘Okay.’ Kurt half-smiled, because if he allowed himself any more he’d be grinning like an idiot. ‘I’ll find you later.’ 

‘Okay…’ Blaine was looking at him like he was a puzzle to be solved. Kurt couldn’t decide if he wanted Blaine to be the one to solve him or not. A couple of dances couldn’t hurt, he told himself. He’d allow himself a couple of dances with this beautiful boy. For some reason, it felt important that Blaine understand him, and who he was, but he didn't know why. He couldn’t actually _like_ him. Except, he thought - he really did. 

He’d always been so sure of his own mind before, his own indecision was intensely irritating. 

A couple of dances. One step at a time.


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken longer than anticipated - I got caught up finishing another fic, but am now back in my Pride & Prejudice zone :) Thanks for your patience!

Blaine had to admit, somewhat grudgingly, that the ballroom looked good strewn with white linens and cut glass. Truthfully, he hadn’t noticed at first. On first arriving he had only had eyes for Sebastian, scanning the room for him intently. He had dressed carefully, with Sebastian in mind, hoping to secure the interest Seb had expressed in being his number one fan, and maybe secure some kisses into the bargain. He had arrived at the party in flattering formal-wear and buoyant spirits; the evening was his for the taking.

It hadn’t ever occurred to him, as he swept his eyes over the gathering crowds, that Seb might not show up. His stomach lurched sickly when it struck him there was a possibility he had been intentionally uninvited because of Kurt’s involvement. He spotted a couple of guys who were in Seb’s company, and made his way over. They greeted him enthusiastically, which was a good sign he supposed, but one of them – Denny – apologetically confirmed that Seb wouldn’t be coming. ‘He has another commitment, elsewhere.’ Denny had said, and then with a sharp look in Kurt’s direction, ‘Though I’m not sure it would have been quite such an important commitment had he not wished to avoid being in the same space as a certain _someone…’_

Blaine fought to control the bitter disappointment that surged through him. Kurt may not have forbidden Sebastian from coming, but he was, in Blaine’s opinion, still just as responsible for his absence. He smoothed his hands down over his jacket, determined to avoid Kurt as much as possible. Being civil with him would somehow feel like he was betraying Sebastian. 

He was about to tell Sam all about it when he’d looked up to find Kurt standing before him in a stunning designer suit. Kurt was gorgeous, no question, which just irritated Blaine even more. He couldn’t remember Kurt ever seeking him out before, and was rendered speechless with the shock of it, especially once Kurt asked him to dance. He was aware that the friends gathered around him had all fallen silent and were watching in fascination, and he felt so surprised and flustered that he momentarily blanked when it came to thinking up a good excuse to say no. 

Once Kurt had wandered off, Blaine had allowed himself a minute to wallow in the anger he felt, both towards Kurt and himself, before pulling himself together. He took a deep breath. He was here to have a good time, and that’s what he intended to do. He caught Sam’s eye, winking when he saw him in starry-eyed conversation with Mercedes who looked beautiful. At least Sam’s evening was going well. 

He found Thad by the punch and grabbed a glass for himself. 

‘ _Thaaad!_ Kurt just asked me to dance with him later, in front of everyone, and my brain completely ceased to function and I couldn’t think of a single reason to say no!’

Thad gasped in exaggerated horror. ‘An attractive, successful guy asked to dance with you at a party? Say it ain’t so!’

Blaine bumped his shoulder with his own, pouting. ‘Shut up. I don’t know why I ever expect you to understand the many crosses I have to bear.’

Thad rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. ‘Blaine, maybe you should give him a chance. You might find you actually like him.’

Blaine snorted. ‘Oh my god, that would be the worst! I can’t like a guy once I’ve already decided to hate him, why would you wish that on me?’

‘I just don’t think you should write the guy off because of the opinion of one person, that’s all.’

Blaine scoffed and was about to come up with a pithy comeback, when Eli knocked into him from behind.

‘Hi, Blaine, I’ve been looking all over for you! Hi Thad.’

Thad waved shyly, an uncharacteristic blush appearing on his cheekbones. Blaine stared at him for a second, but had to shelve the interrogation for later because Eli grabbed his arm and practically hauled him off to the dance floor. Eli’s hand was so hotly possessive on Blaine’s arm it was like a brand. The band were in the middle of an impressive rendition of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’, and Blaine allowed himself to loosen up, moving his hips and shoulders. At least the band were good, and dancing was among his favorite past-times, even if Eli really wasn’t. 

Unfortunately Eli didn’t seem to possess a sense of rhythm at all, dancing in an awkward, solemn way that had him moving out of time to the beat without even realising it. He stood on so many people’s feet he spent as much time apologising as paying attention, which inevitably led to the next bone crushing stumble. Blaine could see people’s attention being attracted by the anguished squeals of the dancers nearby, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He lasted until the end of the next song before he excused himself to use the bathroom, relieved to see Thad coming to his rescue once again by joining Eli on the dance floor. 

He stood, watching them for a minute. Thad had drawn Eli closer in to him – damage control, Blaine imagined – and they were chatting while they moved. Once he’d washed up he wandered back near the dance-floor, enjoying the music. One of Sebastian’s cast-members came over and asked him to dance, and Blaine accepted happily, delighted to find through their pleasant chatter that Sebastian seemed to be popular with everyone, which only fuelled his resentful feelings towards Kurt.

A light touch to his shoulder made him jump, and he turned to see Kurt standing there, his chestnut hair gleaming in the low lighting. His heart plummeted a little when Kurt said ‘Ready for that dance?’ He had half hoped Kurt would forget, but this was not going to be his night after all, it seemed. 

‘Um, sure.’ Blaine followed Kurt back onto the dancefloor. He could feel eyes on him again, but for a different reason this time. 

He winced as he heard Sugar stage-whispering to Sam. ‘Oh my god how did Blaine get Kurt Hummel to dance with him? Can you believe that? Wait, let me get my phone, I want to video it…’ 

The band struck up something softer and slower – their version of ‘She Will Be Loved’ by Maroon 5 - and almost as one all of the couples dancing melded together in their pairs to sway intimately, and Blaine had to close his eyes to stop himself from rolling them because some deity or other was clearly not on his side tonight. 

He glanced up at Kurt who was staring back at him in silence, and they stood awkwardly for a second. Blaine wondered if it was Kurt’s intention to stand in awkward silence for the whole time, figuring that actually wouldn’t be so bad, when he realised Kurt would probably be way more uncomfortable if Blaine forced him to talk. He was pissed enough with Kurt to want to make him a little uncomfortable – like he obviously made Sebastian feel.

So he took a breath and stepped forward, placing his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. The material of Kurt’s jacket was thick and soft, and Blaine could feel the heat radiating through from Kurt’s body. Blaine’s movement seemed to startle Kurt out of whatever strange reverie he had been in, and he ended up putting his hands very lightly on Blaine’s waist, and they began to move around the dancefloor. Kurt was actually a good dancer, so this time there were no bruised toes, no trail of devastated footwear, but he still seemed resolute on remaining silent.

Blaine smirked a little. He didn’t intend to allow Kurt to stay in his odd, silent comfort zone. 

‘Great party.’ He said, gratified when his voice made Kurt jump a little.

Kurt inclined his head, clearing his throat. ‘Thanks.’

After a couple more minutes without talking, a wave of irritation washed over Blaine. ‘It’s your turn to talk now you know, technically. You could talk about how many people are here, or how the centrepieces turned out…’

Kurt smiled, serenely. ‘You could just imagine I’ve said whatever it is you’d like me to say.’

Blaine shook his head a little bit, stifling a sigh. ‘Alright then…’ He absently noted that Kurt smelled really nice, and was immediately furious with himself for noticing.

Kurt bit his lip. ‘Do you talk by rule when you’re dancing?’

Blaine furrowed his brow fractionally. ‘Sometimes. It would be weird to be completely silent in someone’s company for this amount of time. And if you talk then you can enjoy figuring out how to say as little as possible to each other.’

Kurt looked amused. ‘Are you trying to please yourself, or me, in that?’

‘Both, I should think.’

They were silent again for a while, Blaine wondering how to handle this strange, spiky situation he had found himself in.

Then suddenly Kurt said, ‘Thank you for inviting us out to the diner the other day. Do you guys go there often?’

‘Yes, fairly often.’ Blaine was bemused by Kurt’s sudden, clumsy attempt at conversation, and couldn’t resist needling him a little. ‘I actually made a new friend when we were there the other day – you remember Sebastian Smythe?’

The effect was immediate and gratifying. Kurt’s cheeks turned pink and his whole posture stiffened, his face closing off. After a pause he said, carefully, ‘Yes I know Sebastian. He’s very good at making new friends. Whether he’s equally as good at keeping them is a different matter.’

Blaine burned with indignation at Kurt’s criticism of Sebastian, and couldn’t help but snap ‘Well he’s certainly been unlucky enough to lose your friendship in a way he’ll suffer from for the rest of his life!’

Kurt’s eyes ticked up to the ceiling, and Blaine could see the muscles working under the pale skin of his jaw. The tension was interrupted by Mr Schuester, clapping them both on the shoulder with a wide grin. ‘Hey, guys! I’m so glad you two have met, two of my star Glee kids!’

Kurt smiled at him but with no real warmth. ‘Mm. I’m not so sure you felt that way at the time, Mr Schue.’

Mr Schue laughed, brushing the comment aside. ‘This is such a great party, Kurt, really. This band is rockin’!’ 

Blaine was sure he and Kurt cringed in unison as Mr Schue did a mini grapevine to emphasise his point. 

‘Glad you’re enjoying it!’ Kurt’s hands were still resting on Blaine’s waist, and Blaine could feel the long fingers flex with some restrained emotion or other. 

‘We should definitely do this again. Oh my god!’ Mr Schue grabbed Blaine by the shoulder, ‘Kurt could co-ordinate another big day I see coming up in the not-too-distant future! Those two are the talk of the town!’ Then he with an exaggerated wink he jerked his head in the direction of Sam and Mercedes, who were gliding around the dance floor clutching each other like they needed each other to breathe. Mr Schue beamed. ‘I’m so happy for Sam, I can’t believe just a few short years ago he was homeless and now he’s dating Mercedes Jones!’

Blaine saw Kurt’s gaze follow Mr Schue’s, his blue-green eyes wide. ‘Well guys, I’d better go find the lady-wife. I’ll leave you to plan the doves!’ And then Mr Schue was gone, humming ‘Here Comes The Bride’ to himself. 

Kurt and Blaine resolutely avoided eye contact while the awkwardness hung in the air like a stifling blanket, then Blaine started to shuffle his feet to get them moving again. 

‘Sorry, that’s made me forget what we were talking about.’ Kurt shook his head, as if trying to rid it of an unpleasant thought. 

‘We weren’t talking about anything with very much success, were we?’ Blaine tried to sound amused rather than catty but wasn’t sure he managed it. 

Kurt looked at him, his eyes distractingly blue against his pale skin. ‘Music? We could talk about music.’

Blaine laughed. ‘Music? No. I doubt we listen to the same things, or at least not with the same feelings.’

Kurt frowned. ‘We could compare our different opinions, then…’

Blaine shook his head. He was too distracted by their previous conversation to allow it to move on to something as innocuous as music.

Kurt seemed to force his shoulders to relax and opened his mouth to say something, but Blaine was determined to get in there first. 

‘I remember that you said once, Kurt, that your temper is sort of… resentful. And that once someone had lost your good opinion it’s more often than not lost forever?’ He was going into battle for Sebastian now, and he wanted to make Kurt squirm.

‘That’s right.’ The tension was back in Kurt’s posture, his mouth turned down unhappily at the corners. Blaine knew he was crossing the line into rudeness, but he didn’t care.

‘You’re very careful, I imagine, when these resentments are being created?’ He raised an eyebrow at Kurt challengingly, who lifted his chin in return.

‘Of course.’

‘And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?’ 

‘I hope not. What is it you’re actually asking, Blaine?’ Kurt finally seemed annoyed, and Blaine felt a triumphant little swoop in his stomach. But he didn’t want to start an all-out cat-fight, so he forced himself to try and temper his acidity a little. 

‘I’m just trying to make out your character. I hear such contradictory accounts of you that I’m struggling to figure you out.’

Kurt wrinkled his nose. ‘I can believe that. Do me a favour and don’t try too hard right now. I’m not sure it would do either of us any credit.’

Blaine smiled blandly. ‘I might not have the chance to try to figure you out in the future, we may not see each other again after this.’

‘That’s… true.’ Kurt was looking at him with some sort of undecipherable emotion. Probably hostility, Blaine thought, or hatred. God knows Kurt had been awkward and aloof enough that it could very well be either. 

The song ended and Kurt finally released him, and they separated without speaking again. Blaine felt shaky with the irritation coursing through him. God, Kurt was insufferable. He crossed the room to get another glass of punch, glad to get away from the dance-floor for a little while. 

‘You should be careful, you know.’ Chandler appeared so suddenly beside Blaine that a little punch spilled on the tablecloth, splashing rosily over the crisp white linen.

‘Oh no it’s okay, this is only my second cup.’ Blaine lifted the cup of spiced punch up towards Chandler before taking a deep sip.

Chandler looked at him like he was a moron. ‘Not of the punch. Of a certain gentleman I hear you’ve been pursuing lately… Sam’s been asking me all about him for you. Alliterative initials, currently treading the boards in West Side Story…’

‘Oh, you know Sebastian?’ Blaine’s interest was piqued. He wondered if Chandler knew of his boyfriend’s heinous behaviour.

Chandler shook his head. ‘No, not personally. But I have it on good authority that he’s left quite the trail of scandals in his wake. Although it’s hardly surprising, given his own father disowned him.’ Chandler chuckled, leaning in towards Blaine conspiratorially. Blaine bristled immediately. ‘I know he’s been going around telling anyone who’ll listen that Kurt has wronged him, but it’s my understanding that Kurt was very much the victim in what happened.’

‘And what exactly did happen, Chandler?’ Blaine’s tone was icy, but Chandler seemed oblivious.

‘Not sure of the particulars, but I know it wasn’t Kurt’s fault. He can’t even bear to talk about it, poor soul. I can’t believe Sebastian has the gall to even show his face around here. It’s lucky Kurt has me to distract him, if you know what I mean.’

Blaine didn’t bother to suppress his eye-roll this time. 

Chandler smirked. ‘I’m so sorry you had to find out this way, Blaine. It can’t be easy to discover the guy you like is a grade A ass-hat. But then, considering his past what more could you expect?’

‘His guilt and his past seem to be the same thing, according to you, because all you’ve actually accused him of is being disowned by his father as a teenager, and he told me all about that himself.’ Blaine had drawn himself up to his full height, his hands balled into fists. He couldn’t believe Chandler really thought his pathetic gossip would sway him.

Chandler’s mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘I’m sorry for bothering you, then.’ He turned away with a sneer. ‘Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.’

Blaine doubted that with every fibre of his being. 

The evening had done nothing to change the fact that, in Blaine’s opinion, all Kurt was in possession of was more money than sense, a superiority complex, and a chip on his shoulder the exact size and shape of Sebastian Smythe. 

He took deep breaths in through his mouth, letting them out through his nose. He was determined to try and re-gain his good mood from earlier. He found Sam, who greeted him with a mile-wide smile, which warmed Blaine’s heart. At least Sam was having a good time. He’d suffer through a hundred of these parties if it meant Sam was happy. 

‘So I hear you’ve been asking around about Sebastian?’ He smiled at Sam, slinging his arm around his shoulders. 

‘Well I asked Chandler, and Mercedes. But I was subtle, you know?’ Sam beamed, winningly.

‘I’m sure… And what did you find out? Spill!’

Sam shrugged. ‘Not much. Mercedes doesn’t know him personally, and doesn’t know what happened to make him and Kurt fall out. But she’s totally convinced that Kurt’s the best dude she knows and would never have done anything terrible to anyone else.’

Blaine huffed. ‘Well if she doesn’t know Seb personally then she must have gotten her facts from Kurt, so of course that’s what she thinks. Look, Sam, I admire Mercedes’ loyalty, and I’m certain she really believes what she's saying, but there’s no doubt in my mind about Sebastian. I haven’t heard anything to change my mind about either Kurt or Sebastian.’

Just then they were interrupted by Eli, who it seemed Blaine was destined never to be able to shake off. ‘Did I see Kurt Hummel over there?’ Eli exclaimed. ‘I need to introduce myself!’

Blaine sighed. ‘I really wouldn’t, Eli.’

‘Oh I have to, we both know June Dolloway and I can tell him that she was well when I last saw her a week ago!’ And with that he bustled over to Kurt, clasping him by the hand warmly.

Blaine wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but he saw Kurt’s gaze linger on their clasped hands, his nose wrinkling a fraction, and then he saw Eli gesture over to Blaine and Kurt’s eyebrow rise. Kurt delicately extricated his hand, answering Eli coolly, and then when Eli looked over at Blaine once more, Kurt took the opportunity to slip away.

A loud shriek from the corner of the room drew Blaine’s attention away from Kurt and Eli, and he turned to see Kitty and Lauren having a food fight with a couple of the guys from Seb’s company who were more than enthusiastically joining Lauren in shoving baby cupcakes down the front of Kitty’s dress. Blaine raised a hand to his mouth instinctively. Oh god, he should have been watching how much they’d had to drink. 

Luckily their shrieking was drowned out by a loud, discordant note of feedback from the microphone. Or not so luckily, Blaine realised, as he looked up at the stage to see Tina body-check the lead singer of the band from the stage and grab the microphone, launching into the first few words of ‘The Edge of Glory’. Blaine watched in stunned horror as the lead singer stumbled and fell into the crowd, reaching out a hand to try and grab for something stable and, finding only Tina herself, caused her to tumble from the stage as well with an outraged cry about how she never got to finish any songs. 

Blaine and Sam exchanged wide-eyed glances, and moved in practised synchronicity as Sam went to break up the food fight and Blaine made a grab for Tina, allowing Mercedes to take the stage to sing an Adele song. 

Sam got Blaine and the girls settled in a cab, and went back into the party, _sans_ his frosting-smeared tuxedo jacket which Blaine spread over Tina once she was passed out asleep on his lap. He sat back with a deep sigh. He was mortified at how the evening had gone, really.

At least Kurt wouldn’t be showing an interest him anymore, so that was the silver lining he supposed. Also Sam seemed to be having a great time with Mercedes. The memory of the happiness that lit Sam up around Mercedes made Blaine smile. He was more hopeful than ever that Sam and Mercedes would make it official before she went back to LA. He slipped his arms around Kitty and Lauren, mindful of the frosting in their hair. Kurt and Chandler would be gone soon enough, too. As long as Sam and Mercedes worked out, nothing else really mattered at all.


	12. Twelve

Blaine woke up the next morning determined to make light of how badly the night before had gone. He made French toast with strawberries, pleased to find the girls lured from their beds, sleepy-eyed and dishevelled, by the warming scent of cinnamon spreading through the house. He was surprised to find Sam had come home alone and slept in his own bed. It was unheard of for Sam to have been interested in one girl for several weeks and not have taken things further than kissing, but it didn’t seem to undermine his belief that Mercedes was the girl for him. 

‘She’s worth the wait,’ he’d said simply, with a shrug. Blaine was proud of him. 

They all crowded around the tiny breakfast bar to re-live the more dramatic aspects of the night before, whooping when Lauren admitted she'd had seven minutes in heaven in the girls' bathroom with Puck, and cackling so loudly when Kitty stood up to stretch and a whole baby cupcake fell out from under her top that they almost didn't hear the doorbell ring.

Blaine was the most respectable, having put on slippers and a robe over his pyjamas, so he went to get the door. Eli stood on the step, his hair slicked back severely, looking pale and nervous. In one had he clutched a large bouquet of pink roses. 

‘Eli… Hi… I’m sorry, should I have been expecting you? We’re just finishing up breakfast.’ Blaine ran a hand through his hair in confusion, then beckoned Eli inside.

‘Oh, no we didn’t have plans. I was just in the neighbourhood, thought I’d drop by and see if you had time to talk.’ Eli squeaked out an anxious laugh as he settled gingerly on the couch. The girls and Sam were watching, staying deliberately quiet like they were collectively holding their breath, so they wouldn’t miss a word.

‘Talk?’ Blaine echoed faintly. A dull sense of dread dropped like a stone into the pit of his stomach, sending acid splashing up into his throat. ‘Um, coffee?’ His voice came out as a croak.

‘Yes, please. Cream and a sugar, please.’

Blaine nodded, far too fast to be normal, and moved jerkily to the coffee pot, pouring the hot liquid into a mug and adding about six sugars. He moved on autopilot, his mind whirring. _Shitshitshit. He wants to talk. There’s roses. This is not good._

‘These are for you.’ 

Blaine jumped about a foot into the air when Eli’s voice suddenly broke the quiet behind him, much closer to him than he’d expected. He whirled around and got a face full of roses. He wondered for a second if he shouldn’t just stay there, in the roses, forever. It wasn’t such a bad option, all things considered. It was definitely better than having a _talk_ of any kind with Eli. 

He got himself together when Sam poked him in the ribs, forcing a smile at Eli and saying ‘They’re lovely, thank you. They smell really nice.’ 

He grabbed the flowers and busied himself finding a vase, rifling through their cupboards as noisily as possible to make talking impossible. Eventually he couldn’t draw it out any longer, setting a simple vase out on the counter and grabbing some scissors.

Eli cleared his throat. ‘Um, I was hoping we could talk alone?’

_Shit._ ‘Oh I’m sorry, it’s um, family brunch, so I really couldn’t ask it of these guys-'

‘They’re gone, Blaine.’

‘Oh.’ _Shit._

He turned around to face Eli, leaning back against the kitchen counter to steady himself. 

Eli took a step closer, his grey eyes earnest. ‘Blaine, you don’t have to worry, I think it’s really sweet that you’re nervous. It makes me feel better to know this obviously means a lot to you…’

‘Oh, Eli…’ Blaine cringed internally. ‘It’s not, um, that, really, I-'

Eli raised his hands, palm up, and cut him off. ‘Look, I don’t think you can doubt, by now, how I feel about you. Almost as soon as I met you I realised we were ideal for each other, and I think you and I would be great companions if we were to take our relationship to the next level.’

‘Eli…’ Blaine didn’t manage to keep a high-pitched note of desperation out of his voice. 

‘Before I run away with myself here,’ Eli interrupted, ‘I think it’s best if I go over some of the reasons I think we would make a great match.’ Blaine’s eyes widened as Eli took a breath, clearly gathering steam for his pitch. 

‘Firstly, I think it’s only right that a man in my position of authority, working with troubled teenagers, be seen to have a stable, settled home life. Secondly, I think it would make me very happy. And thirdly,’ he paused, creasing his brow, ‘although maybe this should have been first – June Dolloway has made it clear to me that she feels it is the right time for me to settle down with the right man. And the fact is that my father has mentioned to me that your father is a possible prospect for a future business partnership, and that’s just one of the many ways a partnership between us could be beneficial.’

‘Eli…’ Blaine tried again, but it was like shouting into the wind.

‘I know what you’re going to say!’ Eli began to pace nervously. ‘I know we aren’t on an equal footing, financially.’ Blaine felt indignation begin to bubble up in his chest. He certainly had _not_ been about to say that. ‘I really like you, and I promise it would never be an issue between us. I will never bring it up or make you feel badly about it when we’re together.’ 

Blaine had had enough. ‘Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself? I haven’t even said yes or no, yet! Look, I don’t want to mess you around, Eli. You seem like a nice guy, and I’m extremely flattered, but I have to tell you that I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.’ Blaine’s heart pounded in his chest.

Eli paused for a moment, his jaw working. Then he looked up at Blaine with a soft little smile. ‘You’re playing hard to get.’ He reached out to touch Blaine’s arm. ‘It’s alright, I’m used to this. Guys like to see a potential beau willing to put in the effort. Well don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere. I am going to woo you, Blaine Anderson!’ 

Blaine’s hands flew up to cover his face. ‘No, Eli… You’re not listening. I’m not playing hard to get, I promise. There’s no point, um, wooing me. I’m not interested, I’m sorry. I’m being completely serious about this, so please listen to me… You couldn’t make me happy, and I’m convinced that I’m the last guy in the world who could make you so.' He tried for a joke to soften his words. 'And I’m sure June Dolloway wouldn’t like me, either.’

‘No!’ Eli spread his hands, pleadingly. ‘I know she’ll like you, I’ll talk you up to her…’

‘No there’s really no need.’ Blaine took one of Eli’s hands in both of his own. ‘I really appreciate your courage in coming here, in everything you’ve said. And I wish you all the happiness in the world. Believe me, I’m doing everything I can right now to prevent you being otherwise.’

When Eli raised his eyes from their joined hands they were starry. ‘I don't think you mean this. I'll give you some time to think over what I've said, and I know next time we have this conversation you’ll answer me differently.’

Blaine yanked his hand back, huffing out an angry sigh. 

‘Seriously, Eli, have you not heard anything I’ve said? How can you be taking what I’m saying as encouragement? What sort of a man do you think I am, that I’d torment a decent guy for my own amusement? This is insanity. I can’t be in a relationship with you, my feelings in every respect forbid it. I don’t know how to say it more plainly than that.’ 

Eli made an awkward grab for his hand again, sending Blaine rearing backwards out of reach. ‘Look, I’m sure that when I’ve spoken to our fathers you’ll agree-'

Blaine let out an angry, animalistic noise, and span on his heel, stalking back towards his room, past the other bedroom doorways he knew the girls and Sam were huddled behind, eavesdropping shamelessly. 

‘No further discussion, Eli! Nothing else to say!’ He shouted back over his shoulder at Eli, who was trailing behind, mumbling something about June Dolloway. 

He shoved his door open and slammed it shut, turning the lock with a loud metallic sound that echoed around his room. He rested his forehead on the cool wood of the door, half listening to the sounds of Sam gently trying to persuade Eli to give Blaine some space. Eli’s voice was raised, and then Blaine thought he caught another voice – Thad? – joining in, and after a few minutes of Sam and Thad’s placating tones there was silence. He heaved a sigh of relief that made goosebumps raise up on his arms. 

After a minute he heard Sam’s calm, amused voice on the other side of his door. ‘Coast’s clear, lover boy!’

Blaine slid the latch back and cracked the door a fraction. ‘Yeah?’

Sam smirked. ‘Yeah. Thad took him for iced tea. He was awesome – he’s like gay Oprah. You seriously owe him a basket of mini muffins or something.’

Blaine sighed and opened the door fully before going to collapse onto his bed. ‘Don’t I know it.’ He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. ‘Can you believe that just happened?’

Blaine felt the mattress dip as Sam sat down beside him. ‘I guess you had to level with him some time. Although it probably would have been better if it had been less like a Spanish soap opera – ow!’ He broke off with a whimper as Blaine elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Mean!’ He glared at Blaine. ‘It’s not my fault your animal magnetism is finally coming back to bite you in the ass in a non-fun, non-kinky way.’ He pouted, which on Sam was a lot of look. 

Blaine sighed and shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. And thank you for helping, at the end there. God, I really thought for a minute he was going to camp out in our hallway until I changed my mind.’

Sam sat up, patting him on the knee. ‘You should take a long, hot shower and then text your guy. You missed him last night, I could tell.’

Blaine bit the corner of his lip to contain the grin that threatened to spread over his face every time he thought about Sebastian. ‘Yeah I really did.’ He leaned over to grab his phone, and found a text waiting from Seb, apologising for missing the party and asking to see him that afternoon. He supposed the silver lining was that Seb hadn’t been there to witness the baby cupcake induced madness that had seized his friends.

He shot back a text to let Sebastian know that he was seeing his parents that afternoon – might as well bite the bullet – but that he was free the next day, and then took Sam’s advice and went for a luxuriously long shower, hoping the stress of this morning’s talk with Eli would wash away down the drain along with the velvety suds. 

He was dressed and sorting through sheet music for the piano lessons he had coming up that week when Sam appeared in his doorway, looking ashen, clutching his cell phone in one hand.

‘Sam? What’s wrong?’ Blaine was by his side instantly, sheet music fluttering to the floor. 

‘I just got a message…’

‘Okay…’ Blaine frowned, trying to figure out what was happening. 

‘It’s from Chandler. It says… um… here.’ Sam held out his phone so Blaine could read the text. 

**From Chandler**  
**Sam, I just wanted to let you know that some urgent business has come up that can’t wait. We are all catching a flight home this morning. It was lovely meeting you and your friends. All the best for the future. C.**

 

Blaine swallowed hard, his stomach plummeting down through the floor. ‘They’ve all gone?’

Sam nodded, his eyes downcast. ‘I’ve tried calling Mercedes but her phone’s off. She didn’t… She didn’t even say goodbye, Blaine. I just saw her last night. She was happy… We were happy. Why wouldn’t she say goodbye?’ The brittle note in his voice made Blaine’s heart hurt for him. 

He put a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘Maybe it was too sudden? I bet she’ll call you when they land. She probably just wants to talk to you about it properly and not while she’s stuck in an airport with tannoys and Chandler in the background.’

Sam’s face lit up a little with hope. ‘You think?’

Blaine surged up on his toes to hug him. ‘I’m sure. I bet you’ll hear from her later on.’

Sam nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. I’m going to go for a run. Need to have my rockin’ bod in shape for when she comes back!’

Blaine forced his face into what he hoped was a convincing grin. ‘Exactly. Yeah.’

He watched as Sam slipped on his running shoes and set up his earbuds. He really hoped he was right about Mercedes, but he couldn’t shake off a darkly ominous feeling, tugging insistently at the edges of his brain, that this was really not good at all. 

*

Blaine rang the bell of his parents third floor walk-up, nerves fluttering in his stomach. He had a key but he never used it – the apartment had never really felt like home when he’d lived there, even less so now. When he thought about it he’d realised their old, spacious house had never felt like home either. He’d always felt a little displaced – like he wasn’t quite where he was meant to be. 

His mom answered the door, pulling him into a hug and pressing kisses to his cheeks, and he felt his nerves melt away. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He always somehow forgot how tiny she was, how fragile. ‘Hey, Momma.’ He murmured, burying his nose in her dark curls, breathing her in. She smelled like the floral perfume she’d used since as far back as he could remember, and vanilla, and home, and _ah_ – there it was. _She_ felt like home.

‘Bee! It’s so good to see you, I missed you!’ She poked him gently in the stomach. ‘You look so thin – are you taking care of yourself? I made cookies, come on.’ She took his hand and pulled him into the tiny, plain kitchen, and he followed, laughing. She had always been the sort of generous soul who fed every waif and stray, but several years of caring for two perpetually ravenous teenage boys meant her cupboards were always stocked and a pot of something delicious was always bubbling on the stove, and today was no exception.

‘Mmm, oh my god, that smells amazing.’ Blaine hovered over the pan, reaching to dip a finger into the simmering broth. He yelped when his mom smacked his hand away. 

‘It’s hot!’

Blaine pouted, but gave in when he was presented with a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. He took an enormous bite of one, and was in the middle of chewing it, listening to his mom tell him about her book club, when the front door slammed shut. 

‘Cynthia!’ Came the raised, angry voice of his father. ‘You will never believe what that damn fool son of yours has – oh. You’re here.’ He strode into the room, stopping dead at the threshold at the sight of Blaine.

The cookie suddenly felt like dust in his mouth and it seemed like it took forever for him to chew it and swallow, the silence weighing heavier with every passing second.

‘Hi, Dad,’ he finally managed.

His dad held up his phone. ‘What the hell did you do? I’ve just had a call from Joshua Collins, informing me that his son is very upset over your behaviour towards him!’

Blaine flinched backwards. ‘I tried to be as nice as I could about it, but he’s just not right for me, Dad.’

‘I don’t care!’ Todd Anderson slammed his hand down on the counter-top. ‘He didn’t have to be your soulmate, you just had to pretend until I got the deal done!’

‘What’s going on?’ Cynthia put her hands on her hips and stared back and forth between them. 

Todd ignored her. ‘I want you to call that boy immediately and make this right.’

Blaine felt sick with guilt. He wanted to help his dad, he really did, and especially his mom, but he couldn’t, not like this. 

‘Dad, he seemed to really like me. I can’t do that to him… String him along… He doesn’t deserve that and neither do I.’ He tried to keep his voice steady even though his hands were shaking. 

‘Well I don’t deserve a son like you, but that’s what I got.’ His dad’s bitter tone resonated in Blaine’s chest and Blaine sat down heavily in a chair, defeated. 

Todd turned to leave. ‘You make this right, Blaine!’ As he reached the door he turned, his anger visible in every hard angle of his body. His voice was cold and controlled. ‘If you leave it like this I will _never_ speak to you again, do you hear me?’

Blaine’s stomach lurched. His father had never spoken to him this way, not even when he’d come out, although he’d made it clear he wasn’t happy. Then he felt his mom slip her small, warm hand into his, holding tightly to him. She leaned forward earnestly towards him, but her eyes never left Todd’s.

‘So it seems you have a decision to make, Bee.’ Her voice was every bit as controlled as Todd’s, and the strength in it surprised Blaine. He hadn’t seen her impassioned like this in a long time. 

‘Mom?’

‘If you don’t pursue a relationship with this boy, your father will never speak to you again.’ Blaine couldn't believe how together she was, how calm.

His father nodded, and Blaine dropped his head between his shoulders.

Then his mom spoke again. ‘But Blaine. I… I will never speak to you again if you do.’

His head shot up. ‘Mom?’

She turned to look at him then, her large brown eyes sure and determined. ‘I love you. I want you to be happy.’ He clutched at her fingers like a lifeline as his dad let out a furious huff and stormed away. 

She glanced after him, and then looked back at Blaine. ‘He’ll come around. I’ll work on him.’

She squeaked in surprise as Blaine scooped her up in an enormous bear hug. ‘Thank you, Mom.’

She laughed. ‘Just make sure I get grand-babies at some point okay? I need someone to bake cookies for!’

‘You have Katie!’ His gaze flicked automatically to the photograph that took pride of place on the mantel, where a beaming Cooper had his long arms firmly wrapped around his wife and daughter.

‘Pfft. No one in LA eats cookies, honey. Or if they do they make them out of kale.’

The look of horror on her face had him laughing again, and he held her a little tighter, knowing that actually she was lonely, and missed the days when they had spent long afternoons baking and dancing together in the kitchen of their old house. 

‘I’ll try to come by more often. Eat more cookies. Okay?’ He was so grateful to have her for his mom. He promised himself he'd show her that more often.

She held his face in her hands, which felt just as smooth and reassuring as they always had, no matter how many years went by, and she kissed his forehead, and just for a second the kiss held the same magical healing properties they had held when he was a child. ‘Okay.’

*

The next few days were hard. Sam hadn’t heard from Mercedes at all, and she wasn’t answering any of his calls or messages. He knew from her Twitter that she was due to fly back to LA that day, and then start an international press tour for her new single. 

‘She’s not planning on coming back,’ he said to Blaine, melancholy heavy in his voice. They were on the bus back from campus, rain pouring down against the window. Blaine usually liked riding the bus – he was a people person and loved chatting to whoever he was sitting near – but today everyone had been soaked by the time they got on, and the viciously hot air being pumped from the heaters made the air feel stifling and smell unpleasantly like mouldy doormats. 

‘I’m so sorry.’ Blaine squeezed Sam’s knee in sympathy.

‘I wish I knew what I did. What was so bad she wouldn’t even say goodbye.’ Sam’s face was downturned. Blaine’s heart broke for him. ‘Maybe she was never into me at all…’

‘No, that’s not true. You liked each other, everyone could tell. She was just as into you as you were into her.’ Blaine was vehement.

‘But then _why…_?’ Sam sounded lost, and tired.

‘I don’t know.’ Blaine sighed out. ‘I really don’t. All I know is that if she couldn’t see what an amazing, special person you are, then she never deserved you.’

Sam sat back and stared out at the rain. ‘This fucking rain, man…’

‘Yeah.’ As Blaine watched Sam’s face, a plan began to hatch. He drew out his phone and sent a text. He didn’t want to say anything to Sam until things were more certain.

*

The next afternoon Blaine met Thad for coffee at their favourite bakery, Knead the Dough, just a block or two from the music store where Blaine worked. 

He greeted Thad with a heartfelt hug. ‘I have to thank you, so much, for rescuing me the other day. Again! I owe you a big favour!’ He smiled gratefully as he pushed a cappuccino towards Thad.

Thad smiled back, toying with the cup anxiously. ‘Look, Blaine… I have something to tell you…’

‘Okay…’ Blaine’s brow furrowed as he waited. 

‘Um, after I came to your house last weekend, I took Eli out for iced tea.’ He looked up to meet Blaine’s eyes. ‘And then we went to dinner, and then to a movie. And then the next day we met up for brunch.’

Blaine shook his head a little, not quite understanding what Thad was getting at. ‘Okay… So I owe you, like, five favours?’

‘Ha! Uh, no. It’s like this… Eli and I have been seeing a lot of each other this week. We’ve gotten on, of course, the times we’ve seen each other before. But he’s always been so fixed on the idea of you I don’t think he really saw, um. Me. But now he does. And we’re together, Blaine.’

Blaine sat for a second, processing, before bursting out into laughter. One look at Thad’s serious face cut him short. ‘Wait, what? You and Eli? That’s impossible!’

An arch look flickered over Thad’s face, usually so composed, and he raised an eyebrow as he said ‘I’m not sure why you’re so surprised. Is it so incredible that Eli should be able to get a man’s good opinion, just because he wasn’t lucky enough to succeed with you?’

‘No! No, of course not…’ Blaine leaned over and covered one of Thad’s hands with his own. He took a deep breath, getting himself together. ‘I just wasn’t expecting it. If you’re happy then I’m happy for you, honestly.’

Thad smiled knowingly. ‘I know what you must be thinking… You think it’s weird, right, when he seemed so set on you not so long ago?’

Blaine shrugged a little in acquiescence.

Thad took a sip of his cappuccino. ‘I’m not you, Blaine. I’m not romantic, you know. I never was. I’m not looking for the same things you are. Eli… He’s kind, and he’s passionate about what he does, and he makes me laugh.’

Blaine wanted to say that Eli made a lot of people laugh, for all the wrong reasons, but he bit it back for the sake of his friend.

Instead he said, ‘I just don’t want you to settle. You’re so incredible.’

Thad reached out and took Blaine’s hands, looking him straight in the eyes. 

‘Not everybody expects the lightning bolt, Blaine. Not everybody needs it. Some of us want a good, decent, uncomplicated guy. I’m not settling, I promise. I’ve found exactly what I was looking for.’

Blaine bit his lip, not wholly convinced, despite Thad’s sincerity.

Thad smiled. ‘I’m not saying he’s perfect. But I’ve never expected that a guy would be perfect, I’ve always expected that a relationship would be a process, a work in progress. I’ve never expected to meet a perfect guy and have a perfect relationship right off the bat. This is real life, you know?’

Blaine nodded, even though he didn’t know, not really. Who would want to spend their life competing with June Dolloway for someone’s attention? Who would be okay with a guy who seemed so fickle in his affections?

Who wouldn’t want the lightning bolt? 

At least there was one good thing, Blaine reassured himself, getting lost in his own coffee; life couldn’t get any stranger.


	13. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your comments and kudos, they mean the world to me. 
> 
> Kurt's in the next chapter, I promise!

Blaine’s reservations about Thad and Eli were consistently proven unfounded. He’d looked on as they made cookies together at Christmas and kissed at midnight on New Year’s Eve, and was now watching from the other side of the piano as they slow danced together on Valentine’s Day. Blaine still wasn’t sure how Thad put up with some of Eli’s more relentless idiosyncrasies – the constant talk of June Dolloway for one – but he had to admit that Thad seemed happy. The atmosphere between Blaine and Eli was still a little strained. Blaine hoped it would work itself out in time. It didn’t help that he himself was increasingly lonely, now that Sebastian and Thad were occupied elsewhere so much of the time.

He had seen a lot of Sebastian in the two weeks after Mercedes, Kurt and Chandler had left, but once his company moved on to Kentucky they were forced to communicate mainly by text or skype, which it seemed Seb wasn’t all that good at. Blaine forced himself not to dwell on the small, niggling suspicion lurking within him that if he had allowed their relationship to go further than kissing, Seb’s interest might not have waned. He shook his head at himself. He was being ridiculous – Seb had been nothing but charming and attentive when he was in Ohio, hanging out with Blaine and his friends every other day. He couldn’t help that he had a job and was required to be elsewhere. 

Blaine finished playing the notes of the final song of his set until the sound system of the bar took over, then he closed the piano, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. He gathered his bag up and stood wearily to go to catch the bus home, avoiding the couples making out on the dance floor under the bright red heart streamers, checking his phone as he went. There was a text from Tina asking if they could just eat ice cream for dinner, which, absolutely _yes._

He and Sam were due to talk the next day. He missed Sam like he was missing a limb. He hoped that setting up a plan to get Sam to stay with Cooper in LA for a few weeks would pay off, that maybe Sam would be able to see Mercedes and figure out what the hell was going on.

Sam had seemed particularly low in the weeks before Valentine’s day. After Mercedes’ rapid and unannounced departure from Ohio, they had heard absolutely nothing, except an email from Chandler before Christmas confirming that none of them intended to come back into town for the holidays, and mentioning a duet she’d just done with an up and coming singer called Roderick. An hour later Blaine had found Sam watching the video of it on Youtube, clutching a half-eaten box of donuts, doing watery impressions of the guy from the Notebook. Blaine had silently sat down next to him, slung an arm over his shoulders and grabbed a donut. 'I don't think I can have really been, you know, in _love,'_ he'd said to Blaine after a minute or two.

'No?' Blaine had asked. Privately he thought if Sam hadn't been a man in love then his impressions had sure improved a heck of a lot lately, because it was the most convincing one he'd ever done.

'I don't think I can have been,' Sam repeated. 'Because if I were in love, and she did this to me, then I would hate her, right?' He looked at Blaine, his forehead creased as if he were trying to figure out a complicated math equation. 'But I don't hate her. I still think she's...' his voice cracked and he took a breath. 'I don't hate her.'

Blaine shook his head. 'I don't know, man. I think maybe you're just a really exceptional person.'

Sam's mouth turned down. 'Well if I were she'd have loved me back.' 

Blaine drew Sam in for a cuddle, not sure what to say. 

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that friends of Kurt’s would be cruel, but Mercedes’ silence had shocked and devastated Sam. After giving Sam space to mope, Blaine had eventually staged a ‘blamtervention’ where he’d forcibly gotten Sam up and out of the shirt he’d been wearing for several days (judging by the five different kinds of stains that adorned it), and then into the shower, to the barber’s, and onto the plane, with Cooper’s address and the promise of a place to stay for as long as he wanted. He and the girls had pooled funds for the ticket, and he’d taken on extra work to pay his share, including this Valentine’s night gig.

The change of scene and increase of sun seemed to have done Sam some good, but so far he hadn’t managed to see Mercedes. 

He waved a discrete goodbye to Thad and Eli, feeling a pang of want for Seb as he slipped out of the door. It was just so easy with Seb. He seemed to get on famously with Blaine’s girls, and they were, as a group, outraged on his behalf when he told them all how badly Kurt had treated him. Come to think of it, Sebastian had made sure that it was the main topic of conversation whenever they all got together. Blaine shrugged and brushed the thought aside. He was just trying to bond with them over something they all related to – Kurt Hummel being an ass. He was just feeling grumpy because Seb had two shows to do that day and had hardly been able to talk at all. 

Once he’d made it home he watched that week’s Scandal curled up on the sofa with Tina, a tub of rocky road ice cream and two spoons. She’d fallen asleep towards the end so he draped a blanket over her and kissed her cheek before heading to his room. He hadn’t heard anything from Seb since his ‘happy Valentine’s day’ text earlier that morning, and he found himself relieved he hadn’t given in to his urge to turn up at one of Seb’s shows with a dozen red roses and a couple of backing singers. _Maybe next year,_ he consoled himself, as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning he awoke to a text from Sam telling him that he still hadn’t seen Mercedes, but he had run into Chandler who had made it clear Mercedes knew he was in LA but didn’t want to see him. Sam said he was too upset to talk but would call when he felt up to it. Blaine’s blood boiled at Mercedes treating him so badly. She would have been the luckiest girl in the world to be with Sam. No one was sweeter, or more loyal, or had better abs, or – his fuming was interrupted by his cell ringing. He expected it to be Sam, but was pleasantly surprised to find it was Thad. He answered it, wandering out into the kitchen in search of coffee.

After a minute or two of catching up Thad cleared his throat. ‘So I wanted to ask you… Eli has a house in Destin, not too far from June’s house out there. We’re going to be there over Spring Break, we wondered if you’d like to come visit with us?’

Blaine sat down on the sofa, thinking. ‘Thad, that’s… that’s such a kind offer, really. But won’t it be, you know… awkward?’

‘I don’t think so. Look, Blaine, Eli and I… We’re happy. I feel like we haven't really spent quality time together in forever because of all this weirdness, and I just want us all to be friends. The house is lovely and right on the shore. Join us? I have air miles you can use, and there’s a baby grand piano...’

Blaine breathed out a sigh, looking out of the window at the cold, teeming rain. It had been a really grey, weird couple of months. A few days of sun and sea sounded so incredible, and he had been missing Thad like crazy. Maybe it would be a good chance to re-connect and all become friends together. He had vacation time he could take from the store, and maybe a few quiet days would be just what he needed to figure out what he wanted to do after graduation in May. 

‘Okay,’ he said, and was rewarded by a happy whoop from Thad. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

*

A couple of weeks later Blaine climbed out of the black town car that Eli had thoughtfully sent to collect him from the airport, grabbing his bag from the trunk. He set it down on the pavement, and pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head to survey the house.

‘Wow…’

It was a quintessential old Floridian beach house; pale, bleached wood and blue shutters, with billowing sheer white curtains, and actual palm trees framing the large wooden door. It was a modest size in comparison to many of the other houses on the street, but Blaine was completely charmed. 

Blaine was greeted by a good-looking guy with dark hair and blue eyes, who introduced himself as Joel, the house-keeper. He put his bag down by the door and let Joel lead him through the house, which was cool and spacious, furnished in pale woods and neutral colours. Thad was out on a deck that ran the length of the back of the house, with wooden steps that led straight down to the shore. ‘Wow…’ Blaine said again as Thad jumped up to hug him, gesturing to the white sand and sparkling cerulean water. 

‘Nice, right?’ Thad said, squeezing Blaine tightly. ‘It’s Eli’s father’s house, it’s been in their family for years.’

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Blaine agreed, gratefully accepting the iced lemonade Thad handed him. The day was pleasantly warm, not hot at all, but coming off the back of an Ohio winter it felt balmy, and he was dry after his flight. 

‘We’ve been out here for a week already. It’s heaven. The only down side,’ Thad lowered his voice, taking a seat on the rattan sofa and gesturing for Blaine to join him, ‘is that June Dolloway has a house just down the street. It’s how Eli’s father got him a job with her. So we see quite a bit of her. We’re expected there for dinner tomorrow night, actually.’

Then Eli arrived and shook Blaine’s hand, putting an arm around Thad’s waist, and they all settled down to catch up. Blaine watched Thad carefully from behind his sunglasses, checking for any signs that his friend was unhappy or uncomfortable, but Thad seemed relaxed and happy, only colouring the tiniest bit whenever Eli said something tactless. Blaine tucked his legs up under himself, and let the conversation and the sound of the water wash over him as the sunlight sank through his skin into his bones, thawing out the icy-stiff tension in his muscles. 

Once he’d finished his lemonade he asked if he could go and wash up, and maybe nap a little, and Eli showed him to the room that would be his for the next few nights. Blaine was delighted with the bright, simple room which had a window-seat over-looking the ocean. ‘It’s perfect, thank you Eli.’ He reached over and squeezed Eli’s shoulder reassuringly. He hoped that by the time the week was over they would have worked out the residual awkwardness that hung between them. 

He took a quick, glorious shower in the half-bath that was attached to his room, then threw on a light shirt and shorts, and settled down onto the window seat to watch the shore. The sun was starting to set, and orange and pinks splashed across the sky, streaked through with lavender, reflected in the water. It really was beautiful here. 

He stood and stretched, and then went to find Thad and Eli. Thad gave him a tour of the rest of the house, including the garden where orange trees were starting to bear green fruit, not yet ripened by the sun, chili plants and passion flowers snaking along the borders. 

‘Eli loves to garden,’ Thad explained. ‘He’s cultivating an area over here for butterflies. I…’ he paused, and then continued with a small smile, ‘I’ve encouraged him to be out here in the garden as much as possible, this week.’

Blaine caught his eye, trying not to laugh. ‘Yes, well the fresh air must be nice after spending so much time in the city.’

‘Exactly.’ Thad nodded, and bumped Blaine’s shoulder. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘Thank you for having me.’ Blaine leant down to take in the heavily perfumed scent of a pale blue flower he didn’t know the name of. ‘It’s nice to have a break from all the drama!’

Thad laughed. ‘Meet June Dolloway and see if you feel the same!’ 

Blaine grinned. ‘She doesn’t scare me!’ 

Thad raised an eyebrow. ‘Meet her and see if you feel the same!’

‘Alright,’ Blaine laughed. They wandered around the side of the house and stood at the top of the steps that led down to the sand, watching as the horizon turned violet and then indigo, making the moon hang iridescent in the sky.

‘How’s your family?’ Thad asked cautiously. 

‘Good,’ Blaine responded, chewing on his lower lip. ‘My dad figured out, with some persuasion from my mom, that Eli’s dad was just looking for him to be happy. And he is, with you.’ Blaine nudged Thad’s arm, making Thad smile bashfully. ‘And if Joshua Collins is happy then he’s a more amenable businessman, from what I can gather. I’m also pretty sure that my dad isn’t above working the whole ‘my son set your son up with his one true love’ angle.’ 

Thad chuckled. ‘I can believe that…’ 

They stood in silence, until the chill air off the water raised goosebumps on their arms. 

‘Come on,’ Thad said, heading back into the house, now warmly lit by several lamps. ‘Eli makes a mean enchilada and I’m starving.’

Blaine’s stomach growled embarrassingly loudly, and they both burst out laughing and then raced each other into the house, where Eli was frying peppers in a heavy pan. 

Thad mixed up a pitcher of frozen margaritas, and then sliced limes into wedges while Eli made guacamole. Blaine told Eli stories about Thad as a child, and some more embarrassing stories from their teenage years, and found that Eli did actually become more bearable as he relaxed. He and Thad were comfortable in each other’s space, dropping little touches to the other whenever they passed. Blaine licked a little of the salt off the rim of his frosted glass, enjoying the piquancy of it on his tongue, watching Thad and Eli with growing fondness. They were good together. He was pleased he’d agreed to visit with them. A break away from all of his stresses was exactly what he needed, even if he had to deal with a little June Dolloway thrown into the mix.


	14. Fourteen

Blaine surveyed his appearance in the mirror, trying to decide between the blue bow-tie and the green one with tiny pink lions on it. He was wearing pale grey pants he’d had cropped to sit just at his ankle, and a short-sleeved, green and blue plaid shirt. He had just about decided on the green when Eli passed his open door, saw Blaine fidgeting with the bow-ties and stuck his head in the room. ‘Don’t worry too much about your clothes,’ he said, evidently trying to be reassuring. ‘June doesn’t expect everyone else to wear the same sorts of designer labels she’s accustomed to wearing. Just put on the best of what you have, I’m sure she won’t mind you being simply dressed.’

Blaine blinked at him. ‘Thanks, Eli.’ If he failed to keep a note of sarcasm from his voice then Eli didn’t seem to notice. ‘That’s very comforting.’

Eli nodded and moved on to check on Thad, reminding them of the time repeatedly as they all got ready, even though they had plenty, and seemed to work himself up into quite a state of nervous anxiety before Thad took him to one side and whispered to him soothingly, running his hands up and down his arms. Blaine wondered if he should be more nervous than he was, if she was having this effect on Eli after all the years they’d already worked together.

They ended up leaving a few minutes early, Blaine’s hands in his pockets as they strolled up the Dolloways’ paved driveway towards a circular fountain which sat in front of the huge, Mediterranean style house. Eli kept up a running commentary of the work June had done to her house, which Blaine had to admit was stunning. It was rendered and painted white, with gleaming white pillars and dark metal iron-work. The windows were all arched, and Blaine could see a large balcony running along the back of the house. No doubt the views over the ocean were spectacular. 

Inside the house was kept cool in the warmer summer months by an expanse of marble floor, with wide stairs that curved up towards the higher levels. A glittering chandelier hung in the entryway, which Eli informed him was made of French crystal. Blaine’s breath caught as he looked around at the designer pieces of furniture, the enormous gilded mirrors adorning the walls, and the cut crystal on every surface. He found himself glad that he’d decided to wear the green suspenders as well as the bow-tie. He wasn’t sure it was possible to be over-dressed for a house like this. It was beautiful, no doubt, but he secretly preferred the charm of Eli’s house with its raw wood and soft, natural furnishings.

A uniformed maid showed them through to the drawing room, where several people were gathered, the bulk clustered around a small velvet sofa where a heavily made-up older lady with short dark hair was holding court. Blaine guessed this was the famous June from the way Eli made a beeline for her, fawning over her and kissing her hand. He talked non-stop until she cut him off by raising her hand. 

‘And this is?’ She turned towards Blaine. 

‘This is Blaine Anderson, my good friend of many years.’ Thad introduced him. ‘Blaine, this is June Dolloway.’

‘Thank you so much for having me.’ Blaine reached out to take June’s hand, which she took gingerly with a look of some reluctance before turning back to the tall, handsome Asian man she was been sitting with. He jumped up and introduced himself as Mike Chang, a choreographer from LA. He looked sort of familiar to Blaine but he couldn’t quite place him.

There were a few other people milling around the room, chatting in small groups. Looking around Blaine guessed they were all big hitters on the arts scene, and suddenly felt nerves twist in his gut. This could be a much bigger deal than he’d realised. Eli and Thad had already been drawn into a discussion on the other side of the room, leaving Blaine standing a little awkwardly, alone, stomach churning.

He excused himself to the bathroom, wanting to take a minute to get himself together. The maid showed him the way, back through the foyer, and once there he splashed cool water on his face and ran it over his wrists. He took a deep breath, looking at his reflection in the mirror over the vanity. He could do this – he could work a crowd. He just had to hide his nerves, put on his show face. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t really confidant, he just had to project it. He blew out the breath, and shook the tension out of his arms. Time to re-join the party. 

He got a little lost once or twice, wandering down the wrong hallway, before he found his way back to the foyer. He was crossing the marble floor when he heard footsteps rapidly descending the wide, curved stairs, echoing around the large space. He looked up, his mouth dropping open a little when he saw Kurt Hummel, pale and gorgeous in a white shirt and blue ascot, draw to a stop a few steps from the bottom. He had to suppress an eye roll when he saw that Kurt was in the process of removing his sunglasses, because of course Kurt was enough of a diva to wear sunglasses inside.

After a second of staring at each other, Kurt said, ‘Blaine. Hi. Are you new here? I haven’t seen you at one of these before.’

‘Hi Kurt. Um, yeah.’ Blaine finally remembered his manners and stuck out a hand to Kurt, who took it briefly. ‘I’m staying with Eli Collins, and my friend Thad.’

Kurt nodded, his face impassive. He seemed to suit the grandeur of his surroundings, tall and haughty and beautiful, and Blaine kicked himself again for thinking he was beautiful because it was _Kurt Hummel,_ who had proved he may be pretty on the outside but he was a raging bitch on the inside.

Kurt descended the last few steps lightly and started to lead them in the direction of the drawing room in the silence Blaine had come to understand was standard for him.

‘Are you here with Chandler, or Mercedes?’ Blaine asked, half hopeful, half apprehensive.

Kurt glanced over at him. ‘No. I’m here with my friend, Mike Chang.’

‘Oh I met him, nice guy.’ 

Kurt nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s great. We were in Glee club together. He’s based in LA now but we have a meeting here with June, so it was a good opportunity to catch up.’

Comprehension dawned over Blaine. So _that_ was where he knew Mike from. ‘Well, good luck with your meeting,’ he said as they walked into the drawing room.

Kurt smiled a little and then walked over to a small group of people who seemed to be having a serious discussion, all clutching glasses of champagne. 

Blaine grabbed a glass for himself from one of the staff who were circulating with slender glasses on silver trays. He steeled his shoulders, and dove into the fray. 

He found Thad who introduced him to a few more people – a music video director, a composer, a Broadway producer. Blaine was sure he’d never be able to keep the names straight so he smiled a lot and tried to join in the conversation where he could. He had the oddest feeling that eyes were on him, but when he glanced up and around he couldn’t see anyone looking. It must be all the mirrors in the room. 

Eventually they circled around to June, who turned to him imperiously. 

‘Thad tells me you are a performer, Mr Anderson?’ Her eyes flicked down over the length of his body, and he felt himself blush under his green bow-tie and suspenders.

‘Um, not so much anymore. I used to be. Wanted to be. But I’m studying Musical Education now.’ The look of disdain on June’s face indicated this was the wrong answer.

‘Do you play or sing?’ She took a sip of her champagne, the light in the room catching on the sequins that adorned her shirt.

‘Both. I was in show choir with Thad, actually, and then again when I moved schools. We were runners up at Nationals. I play the piano and guitar, and I used to play the violin but I haven’t for a while now.’ Blaine couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some sort of interview.

June nodded. ‘How many years of tuition did you have?’

‘Oh I didn’t have a tutor.’

June raised her eyebrows. ‘No? Your parents must have been slaves to your musical education!’

Blaine laughed. ‘Not really. I’m self-taught.’ He didn’t really want to mention the fact that his father thought music lessons were a waste of time and money.

June’s painted mouth opened in shock. ‘You were quite neglected! Nothing can provide a rounded musical education like good tuition. If you were several years younger I would recommend you join one of my schemes for under-privileged youths. You’re from Ohio aren’t you? Kurt has helped to set up several of my schemes there.’

‘Kurt did?’ Blaine’s gaze found Kurt on the other side of the room. It was hard to reconcile stuck-up, superior Kurt with a caring young man who did work for the community. He looked back at June and blinked, trying to think through what to say. ‘I wasn’t under-privileged. It’s just how it was for me. And once I got to Dalton I had great music teachers as part of the curriculum – that’s actually what inspired me to become a teacher myself. But the fees at Dalton were sort of steep, and I know not all schools have funding for that. I think as long as you’re willing to work hard and you have access to the internet you can get pretty good without needing the resources for a tutor.’

June pursed her lips. ‘You’re very set in your opinions, for someone so young.’

Blaine took a sip of champagne to hide his smile. He was fairly sure he was the first person in a long time to be impertinent to June Dolloway.

June sniffed. ‘Well, I take great pride in setting the young people in my acquaintance up with the very best teachers around. Eli, did I tell you that Julia Metcalfe called me yesterday to thank me for putting her in touch with Mr Pope? She finds him a treasure. ‘June,’ she said, ‘you have given me a treasure.’’ She glanced around the small crowd in satisfaction, ending with a pointed _look_ at Blaine. 

Soon after Blaine found himself in a small room off the drawing room which seemed cosier, and was home to a beautiful, glossy grand piano. He couldn’t resist running his fingers over the keys, sliding on to the bench. He pressed a few notes experimentally, glancing around to see if anyone would come over to tell him off. No one seemed to care, so he started to play something soft and pretty. 

‘Hey,’ a voice came, making him jump. He looked up to see Mike Chang smiling down at him. 

‘Hi.’

Mike drew up a chair and sat down. ‘So I hear you’re a New Directions alum, too?’

They fell into easy conversation, swapping stories about Mr Schue, and their various competitions. Mike turned out to be funny and charming, and Blaine was enjoying talking with him so much he almost didn’t notice Kurt approaching them to rest an arm on the edge of the piano.

‘Uh oh.’ Blaine stage whispered to Mike. ‘The big Broadway star has come to intimidate me!’

Kurt smiled and shook his head. ‘Naturally. I’m waiting to be impressed…’

Blaine narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t provoke me or I may be forced to tell Mike shocking things about your behaviour in Ohio last year!

Mike laughed. ‘Oh well now you have to tell me what happened?’

Blaine raised an eyebrow. ‘Prepare yourself!’ He said dramatically. ‘The first time I met Kurt was at a party thrown by my friend Sugar. Kurt refused to sing, or dance, or talk to a single person except his friend Mercedes. I’m not sure you even moved from your spot on the wall all evening did you?’

Mike laughed as Kurt shifted uncomfortably, pink colouring his cheeks. ‘Well I didn’t know anybody!’

Blaine smirked. ‘True, and nobody can be introduced at a party, can they?’

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine’s sarcasm. ‘I… I don’t find it very easy to talk to strangers. Sometimes I don’t feel like I have anything to add to the conversation, or that I’m welcome.’

Blaine’s brows got impossibly higher. ‘You don’t feel like you have anything to add to a conversation? _You,_ the highly educated, successful singer and actor who recently appeared in Time magazine?’

Kurt flushed, pressed his lips together, and shrugged awkwardly. ‘I just… don’t seem to have the talent for it.’

‘Well…’ Blaine glanced up at him, ‘maybe you should practise.’

Kurt gave a funny half-smile and looked right at him. ‘I thought we were…’ 

Something in Kurt’s breathless tone made Blaine’s fingers falter a little on the keys, and he was relieved when June interrupted with ‘Boys! Are you on the piano? How glorious! Sing something for us!’ 

Blaine tried to demur but June wouldn’t allow it. ‘I’m sure your playing will be acceptable enough to accompany Kurt’s singing. I’d play myself, but I never learned. If I had though, I would be a true proficient…’ 

Blaine could have sworn he heard Kurt stifle a laugh, but when he caught a glimpse of his face it was as impassive as ever. ‘Here,’ Kurt said, flicking through the book of sheet music to You Make Me Feel So Young. ‘You might as well, you won’t get out of it. Shall we do this one? She loves an oldie.’

He had to admit that he and Kurt actually sounded pretty good together. He’d never heard him sing live before, and he had to keep reminding himself, as they sang back and forth, playing to the crowd, that he didn’t like Kurt. Not at all. Maybe he would manage to corner him later, though, and find out what the deal was with Mercedes. He may not have made a friend in June Dolloway, but if he could get more information for Sam then at least this evening wouldn’t have been a total bust.

*

The next morning, Thad and Eli wandered into town to pick up some fresh seafood for dinner. June had mentioned a particular vendor along the seafront who she used above everyone else, and when they got home Eli had promptly had a small panic attack, muttering frantically about throwing out the shrimp and crab they had already bought in favour of replacing them with some from June’s favourite shop. Thad had rolled his eyes affectionately and insisted on offering the seafood to Joel rather than waste it. It made Blaine smile to see how well Thad’s grounded calmness countered Eli’s less rational side. He liked how Eli spoiled Thad with little thoughtful gestures – pulling out his chair, topping up his water. More than that, they seemed to make each other laugh. They had developed an easy comfort with each other that Blaine envied a little. 

It was true that they seemed to lack a bit of the spark that Blaine felt was crucial for his own relationships – a certain hunger for each other that he wasn’t sure he wanted to live without – but they seemed content – happy, actually - and so he was happy for them. 

Blaine had decided to stay home and sit out on the deck, curled into one of the comfortably cushioned chairs, to watch the sun sparkle off of the waves in the ocean. There was something deeply soothing for him about being close to the sea. The sound of it, the smell of salt in the air, the vastness of it. He breathed in deeply and let the low, comforting sound of the waves surround him. He rested his head back, closing his eyes, soaking up the balmy warmth of the day. He planned to swim later, and maybe catch up on some reading. And he owed Sam an email, too.

His musings were interrupted by Joel appearing on the deck, followed by the silhouette of someone that Blaine couldn’t quite make out as his eyes adjusted from staring at the bright sunlight along the shore.

‘Kurt Hummel for you, Sir.’

‘Oh. Kurt – hi. Come sit.’ Blaine unfolded himself from the chair and made to stand, flashing Joel a wide grin of thanks. He suddenly realised he had no idea how to greet Kurt. A hug seemed too familiar, a hand-shake too formal. He ended up smiling at him, as warmly as he could manage, and then sitting back down.

Kurt inclined his head in assent, and then carefully arranged himself on the end of the sofa, making sure he was out of the direct sunlight. He looked cool and summery in tailored shorts, fitted, heathery-blue t shirt and mirrored designer sunglasses, but after looking at him for a moment Blaine thought he could detect small signs of disquiet. He was breathlessly pink in the cheeks and it looked like he’d been running his hands through his hair. Blaine thought that was probably as close as Kurt ever came to being dishevelled. It was a good look on him, actually.

Blaine cleared his throat to keep from staring. ‘Do you want some lemonade, or…?’ He gestured to the table, set prettily with a jug of iced pink lemonade, several glasses, and linen napkins.

Kurt crossed his legs elegantly, which was sort of impressive because it isn’t all that easy to do anything elegantly in shorts. ‘No, thanks.’

‘Okay.’ Blaine looked over at Kurt expectantly, waiting for Kurt to explain the reason for his visit, but Kurt kept quiet, his head turned towards the shore. 

‘Um, how are you?’ Blaine made a feeble attempt at conversation before the silence became too overbearing.

‘Good, thanks.’

‘Good.’ 

After another minute of silence Blaine poured himself a glass of lemonade, just to have something to do. 

‘So you guys left Ohio pretty suddenly, in the end…’ Blaine tried again, curious about what Kurt would say.

Kurt turned his head towards him, then, humming vaguely. Blaine couldn’t see his eyes under his mirrored sunglasses which was unsettling. 

‘We went back to New York for work. Then Mercedes had work commitments in LA. I decided to go with her for a little bit.’ Kurt finally ventured. 

‘How is Mercedes?’

‘She’s really good, thanks. Very busy.’

‘My buddy Sam’s been in LA for a few weeks, actually. He’s been doing some gigs, seeing the sights. It’s a shame you guys didn’t manage to all get together…’ Blaine let his voice trail off meaningfully. He knew perfectly well that if Sam had seen Chandler then Kurt definitely knew about it. 

‘No. Well, like I say, it’s been very busy.’

Blaine raised his eyebrows. ‘Right.’ 

There was another long pause, then Kurt said ‘This is a nice place. Am I right in thinking June’s done a fair bit to it since Eli’s been using it?’

Blaine laughed. ‘You are. She couldn’t have bestowed her attentions upon a more grateful recipient.’

Kurt tilted his head thoughtfully. At this new angle a sunbeam danced through the coif of Kurt’s hair, lighting up the reds and golds hiding among the chestnut. ‘Thad and Eli seem very happy,’ he said eventually.

Blaine nodded. ‘I think they are. He’s a lucky guy – Thad’s the best. It’s worked out well.’

Kurt ran a hand over his jaw, nodding slowly. ‘Thad must be pleased that Eli’s in Ohio so much.’

‘I imagine he is. Long distance is…’ Blaine screwed up his face in distaste.

‘Mm.’ Kurt paused and seemed to take a breath before he said, uncertainly, ‘You wouldn’t always want to be in Ohio, I’d guess?’

Blaine was taken aback. ‘Oh. I don’t know. I mean, New York was always the plan for me. Or maybe Chicago. But I couldn’t leave my mom, now.’

Kurt frowned a little. ‘It’s not like it’s a three day journey via horse and cart anymore, Blaine. They have aeroplanes.’

‘Yeah, which is great as long as money is no object, and it sort of is an object right now.’ Blaine bristled defensively. Had Kurt come here just to judge him some more? ‘You must remember your struggling student days, surely?’ 

Kurt opened his mouth, then closed it again suddenly. He twisted his hands together, and said ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Blaine was just so confused. What was Kurt even doing here?

Kurt stood, abruptly. ‘I should get going. Good seeing you, Blaine.’

‘I… okay.’ Blaine barely had time to say goodbye before Kurt was gone, striding back through the house purposefully, like he couldn’t leave fast enough, leaving Blaine staring helplessly after him.

‘What the hell?’ Blaine muttered to himself, sagging back down into his chair. He really was never going to understand the enigma that was Kurt Hummel. And he didn’t want to anyway, he reminded himself, no matter how attractively his t-shirts pulled across his shoulders, no matter how well-tailored his shorts were… He sighed, chastising himself for where his thoughts were going. Kurt wasn’t a nice person. And he was really strange, too. He took a picture of the glitter of sunlight across the water, sending it to Sebastian with ‘Wish you were here. x’ written underneath. 

*

Kurt made sure he was well out of sight of the house before sinking down onto his haunches and putting his head in his hands. He’d been fighting the urge to see Blaine all morning, unable to eat or sleep properly knowing he was just a few houses away. Once he’d overheard Eli tell June they were on their way to the store, he had found himself outside their house before he knew what he was doing. He was encouraged by the way Blaine had been flirting with him – singing with him, teasing him – but he still wasn’t sure he was ready to take the next step and open up his heart to someone new and unknown. With distance, in New York or LA, he had managed to convince himself his feelings for Blaine had faded. Maybe he wasn’t in love, just in lust. Maybe he had just been overcome by the heightened emotions brought up by being so close to home, and had fixated on the first cute boy he’d seen. But he had been unable to resist flying out here once he'd heard about Eli's house guest from June, unable to resist seeing Blaine again, and now they were in close proximity he was reminded all over again how much he liked him, his quirky fashion, his voice, his pretty eyes. He stood up quickly, letting out a grunt of frustration. He needed to think it over some more before he showed his hand.


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! x

Mike checked his watch, picking up his pace when he saw that he was a couple of minutes late. Kurt hated when people were late and Mike really didn’t need another lecture on tardiness. He hoped he could get away with saying he’d had trouble deciding on which shoes to wear, playing to Kurt’s weakness – _accessorizing._ He jogged the last couple of hundred yards to the coffee shop, breathing in the warming scent of coffee as he shouldered open the door. 

He scanned the room quickly, expecting to find Kurt waiting for him at a table, foot tapping in irritation, but was relieved to see he was standing at the counter, seemingly deep in conversation with one Blaine Anderson. ‘Hey,’ he said, touching Kurt on the shoulder. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ 

‘Oh it’s no problem. I ran into Blaine here and he very kindly bought me a coffee.’ Kurt’s cheeks looked a little pinker than usual. Mike bit the inside of his bottom lip to keep from smiling. He strongly suspected that Kurt was into Blaine, and finding Kurt blushing and breathless only confirmed those suspicions. Kurt’s phone pinged and he frowned as he examined the message. ‘Damn. Mike, I just got a text from June. Apparently there’s some sort of musical emergency that requires my immediate presence. Could we meet up a little later?’

‘Sure. I can catch up on my emails instead.’ Mike pulled his own phone from his pocket.

‘You could join me for coffee if you wanted?’ Blaine interjected with a grin. ‘I’d love to hear all about your glamorous life choreographing the stars!’ 

‘Alright, thanks.’ Mike had warmed to Blaine, who seemed sweet and friendly. He looked from Blaine to Kurt. They would make a good-looking couple. 

Kurt bit his lip then said, ‘Mike, could I have a quick word with you in private before I head back?’ 

‘Sure.’

Blaine grabbed his cup of coffee and said ‘I’ll go sit down, give you guys a minute.’ He lifted his cup towards Kurt in farewell, and withdrew to make himself comfortable at a table a good distance away at the back of the room. 

Mike turned to Kurt, who shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Mike wasn’t a pushy guy, he believed in letting people express things in their own way, so he gave Kurt a few moments to order his thoughts. 

Finally Kurt cleared his throat. ‘Okay. This is a little bit awkward, um… It’s about Blaine. I sort of, uh…’

‘You like him.’ Mike said simply, this time allowing himself a smile when Kurt’s cheeks grew warm. 

‘I – yeah. I spent some time with him in Ohio and developed a little crush,’ Kurt unconsciously touched his fingertips to his mouth. ‘Seeing him again here, I… It hasn’t gone away. And I think he likes me back.’ Kurt lowered his voice even further, face softening with affection as he said ‘He knows my coffee order! But I wondered if you could maybe sound him out a little? You know, subtly?’

Mike grinned. ‘Find out how he feels about you, and talk you up a little. Gotcha. Mission accepted!’ 

Kurt rolled his eyes fondly. ‘Well if you must. It couldn’t hurt, I’m sure.’

‘No worries man, I got this. I’m the best wing-man ever.’ Mike saluted smartly.

‘Thank you.’ Kurt said fervently. Mike smiled back at him. He knew how much Kurt appreciated having guy friends he could talk to about his relationships. He was looking forward to working with Kurt on their upcoming new project. Maybe in high school Mike hadn’t been the best friend he could have been, but over the last ten years their friendship had endured and deepened. Mike respected Kurt’s strength and determination to be uncompromising in who he was, and Kurt liked Mike’s gentle generosity and taste in scarves and hats. 

He watched Kurt slip on his sunglasses and step out into the sunlight before he ordered himself a chai tea. Kurt might have grown into a successful young man, but very occasionally he showed glimpses of the vulnerable boy he had once been. Mike was determined to be a great wing-man for him.

He took his cup over to the table where Blaine was sitting, scrolling through his phone. 

‘Hey, man.’ 

‘Hey.’ Blaine put the phone down on the table immediately, as Mike took a seat.

Mike took a sip of tea, closing his eyes briefly in pleasure as the spices tingled over his tongue. ‘So how are you enjoying Destin? And more importantly how are you finding June?’

Blaine laughed. ‘Destin’s gorgeous. It’s good to get away for a few days. June is, uh, quite a character!’ 

‘She certainly is! She ran Kurt ragged for a few years, from what I understand.’

‘Yeah?’ Blaine crossed his legs and Mike noticed how his pants had been tailored to sit at his ankle, leaving his feet bare in his boat shoes. Maybe this kid could hold his own against Kurt in the personal style department. Or at least give it the old college try. 

‘Mm. She donated a lot of money to NYADA, I think they named a building after her or something. Kurt sang at the ceremony, she noticed him, started introducing him to producers, helping him get auditions. The rest is history…’ He took another sip of tea. ‘For the last couple of years Kurt’s been working more on his own stuff. June's not incredibly happy about it, but he really feels like he needs to make his own mark.'

Blaine nodded thoughtfully. ‘I get the impression he does like things his own way.’

Mike laughed. ‘Don’t we all? It’s just that Kurt has better means of getting things his way because of his success. As a struggling choreographer, I’d love to begrudge him it, but he’s worked so damn hard to get there I really can’t.’

Blaine tapped his fingers on his cup a few times, seemingly mulling something over. ‘Am I right in thinking that you and Kurt were in glee club together, with Rachel Berry and, uh, Mercedes Jones?’

‘That’s right.’ Mike nodded, pleased. Blaine’s curiosity about Kurt, and Kurt’s past, had to be a good indication of his interest in him. ‘And Quinn. Kurt met Chandler in senior year but he didn’t go to school with us, then Chandler sort of followed them to New York after graduation.’

‘They’ve been together that long?’ said Blaine in surprise.

Mike raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, they’re not a couple.’

‘Really? Does Chandler know that?’ Blaine seemed shocked.

Mike laughed. ‘Chandler is nothing if not optimistic about his relationship with Kurt. I don’t think Kurt gives him much cause, though. He’s never seen Chandler as boyfriend material.’

Blaine frowned. ‘Right.’ He toyed with the lid of his cup. ‘Do you get to see much of Rachel... or Mercedes?’ He flicked a glance up through his eyelashes. 

Mike swallowed a sip of tea. ‘Mm hmm, I saw Kurt and Rachel when I was in New York at the end of last summer. I try to touch base often with Rachel, ever since…’ he broke off, not knowing how much Blaine might know about Finn. ‘Ever since she moved to the city,’ he finished lamely. ‘I know Kurt does a great job taking care of her, though.’

Blaine smirked. ‘Kurt is certainly very kind to his friends.’

‘Ha. You don’t know the half of it.’ Mike leaned forwards conspiratorially. ‘Can I tell you something in confidence?’

‘Of course.’ Blaine leaned in as well. 

‘Well he told me something last night… He didn’t name any names, or give any details, but over the last couple of months he’s saved one of his friends from a relationship that would have ended terribly.’

Blaine’s mouth dropped open. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He said one of his good friends had all but fallen in love with some guy she met last fall. It was getting really serious on her part, but he wasn’t a good guy, it seems. He didn’t seem all that into her, and there was a strong possibility he was only after her for money and connections. She could have ended up really heart-broken.’ Mike wouldn’t usually have talked like this with someone he didn’t know well, but it was too good an opportunity to show Kurt as a great friend and protector.

Blaine’s jaw was working as he processed the information. ‘Oh. But... How did he go about separating them?’ 

Mike shook his head. ‘He never said. Just that he managed it.’ 

Blaine folded his hands together, pressing his lips into a thin line. ‘I don’t see why Kurt thought he was the best judge of the situation?’

Mike shrugged. ‘He’s very protective of his friends. You think he was out of line?’ Worry flashed through him, suddenly. He hoped he hadn’t said something to put Blaine off. 

‘Uh…’ Blaine’s eyes darted around the room before landing back on the cup in front of him. ‘I don’t really see what right he had to get involved in someone else’s relationship.’ He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders a little. ‘But as you say, we don’t know the details. I’m sure he, uh, had his reasons.’ 

Mike was fairly sure the situation had been salvaged, especially as they talked for several minutes more about life in LA, and Blaine’s possibilities after graduation, and Blaine didn’t bring up the topic again. Mike managed to mention some of the shows Kurt had been in, and some of the stars he’d worked with, but Blaine got progressively quieter.  
‘Are you okay?’

‘Um, I have a bit of a headache. Too much caffeine probably,’ Blaine joked weakly, and now that Mike looked at him Blaine actually did look a bit pale. ‘I’m sorry, but I might have to head home to lie down.’

‘Of course. Make sure you drink lots of water.’ Mike clasped Blaine’s shoulder warmly. ‘June’s having that dinner party tonight, attendance mandatory!’ He smiled gently. ‘Seriously though, feel better, okay?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, thanks.’ Blaine left the café as if he was in a daze.

Mike sat back, running through the conversation in his mind. Blaine had seemed very interested in Kurt’s relationship – or lack of – with Chandler, and in Kurt’s friends. He’d managed to talk Kurt up a fair amount. All in all, very satisfactory, he surmised. He texted Kurt a _**'Mission accomplished!'**_ with a ‘thumbs up’ emoji and sat back in his chair, content. 

This match-making wasn’t so hard, he thought. If only his own love life looked as rosy. Sure, there were girls in LA, but he was looking for someone quirky and interesting. He’d have to get Kurt to introduce him to some of his girl-friends, in repayment of the favour. He tossed his cup in the trash, smiling at the text he’d just received from Kurt: _**‘OMG come back to June’s ASAP and tell me EVERYTHING!!’**_. He winked at his own reflection in the window as he headed back towards June's house. Yup, he thought to himself. Best wing-man ever.


	16. Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where Kurt confesses his feelings to Blaine. Assume the brace position...
> 
> Little bit of jealous Kurt because he's sort of my favourite :)
> 
> (This is Klaine endgame so don't worry, it's got Bette Middler.)

Blaine collapsed into the armchair in the corner of his bedroom and scrubbed a tired hand over his face. He’d spent the walk home brooding over the unexpected insight he’d gotten into Kurt and the situation with Mercedes. He was mad at Kurt – really, really mad – and some pernicious part of him wanted to get even madder, to find more and more evidence of his wrong-doings, so he read through all the texts and emails he’d gotten from Sam since he’d gone to LA. On the surface Sam seemed to be doing okay, but Blaine knew Sam better than anyone, and he could read the sadness hanging there, latent in the white spaces between the lines. 

His eyes settled on Sam’s relationship status on Facebook: Single. Blaine’s heart clenched with a sudden rush of anger, and he thumped his fist down on to the desk in frustration. His head throbbed as blood pulsed fiercely at his temples and throat. He hadn’t been lying about having a headache. He ventured out to find Thad, who managed to scrounge up some advil and a glass of water and sent him back to bed, with assurances to Eli that June would understand just this once. 

Back in the cool quiet of his room, Blaine sat down on his window-seat, watching the waves and listening to Thad and Eli getting ready. He closed his eyes and breathed out a deep sigh of relief when the front door finally clicked shut. He rested his forehead against the smooth glass of the window, enjoying how it felt like a cold compress against his skin. The peace was blissful. He was hugely glad he wasn’t going to June’s tonight. The thought of being in the same house as Kurt all night made him feel stressed to the point of nausea. 

He was half dozing, head still resting against the cool window, when a knock at his door startled him awake. 

‘Hello?’ he called.

Joel poked his head through the door. ‘Kurt Hummel for you, Sir. I told him you were unwell, but he is quite insistent that he check on you.’

Blaine suppressed a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to go to Kurt and tell him to get the hell out, but he was exhausted to his bones, and he was worried that if he stood he’d sway. ‘Oh.’ He mouthed _fuck_ , silently. ‘Okay, thanks Joel. If you could show him in here that would be great. Thank you.’ 

A minute later Kurt almost stumbled into the room. 

‘Kurt. Hi.’ Blaine rose from the window seat and then had to sink immediately down onto the edge of the bed. ‘Sorry, I’m not feeling all that well. Sit if you want.’ Blaine didn’t even try to inject warmth into his tone. 

Kurt lowered himself into the armchair. He looked restless and fidgety in his skin. ‘You’re still not well? Mike said you had a headache, and when I saw you weren’t at June’s dinner I wanted to check on you.’

Blaine felt the pressure in his head pulsing at the corners of his eyes. He shook his head a little but it still felt fuzzy and he was too tired to figure out why Kurt would come to see if he was okay. It’s not as if they were friends. ‘It’s just a headache. Thad gave me advil. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a little while,’ he said wearily. 

Kurt nodded. Blaine waited for him to say something, but silence hung between them. Blaine sighed inwardly, irritation rising up his throat. He was getting very fed up of sitting in silence with Kurt Hummel. 

Kurt got up suddenly and started to pace the floor, quickly, rubbing his hands over his face like he was stressed out about something. For several silent moments Blaine perched on the edge of the bed, watching him. Having the man he despised in his personal space, acting like a deranged person, was about the most uncomfortable he’d ever been. He debated with himself whether it was worth confronting Kurt about Sam and Mercedes. He desperately wanted to know why Kurt would have interfered. He was trying to figure out the right words when Kurt skidded to a halt in front of him, running his hands through his hair. Blaine stared up at Kurt’s now dishevelled hair, the strange agitation in his eyes, so caught off guard he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Finally, Kurt took a deep, shaky breath and said ‘I have been trying to fight this for so long, you have no idea. I can’t do this anymore. I need to tell you that… I’m in love with you.’

Wait. _What?_

Blaine blinked up at him, shocked, flushed, and utterly confused. His mind reached frantically to make sense of what was happening, but he was blind-sided and his thoughts were jumbled.

Kurt seemed to take his bewildered stare as a good thing, because he spread his hands and started talking. ‘I have been for a while. I’m sure you’re probably a little… overwhelmed right now, but just let me explain. We both know there are a lot of reasons we shouldn’t be together. I’ve been telling myself over and over. I’m in New York and so well-known. You’re in Ohio, doing your teaching stuff,’ he waved a hand dismissively, ‘and long distance is hard. Especially since I know you don’t have a lot of money. And that whole thing with your dad and Eli was really weird, honestly, and god your friends are crazy… Look, I’ve been battling myself on this for a long time now and this is so, so unlike me, but... But I want to overlook it all - everything - and I want to be with you.’

Blaine could not believe the arrogance of this guy. Did he somehow think explaining every way in which Blaine was inferior to him was the way to his heart? Blaine’s jaw worked soundlessly, his mind scrabbling frantically for a word – some words, any words. Kurt was still talking for some reason, presumably listing yet more of Blaine’s faults he’d so selflessly deigned to overcome. Blaine wasn’t even really listening any more. His head was spinning. He couldn’t understand where this was coming from, or why Kurt seemed so sure his interest would be reciprocated. 

He could see, in spite of his intense dislike of Kurt, that he probably should be flattered. Kurt was handsome and talented, and successful, and at first he had felt a pang of guilt for the hurt he might cause in rejecting him, but as Kurt had kept talking Blaine’s anger grew and grew until it eclipsed every other emotion.

‘Kurt.’ Something in Blaine’s voice made Kurt stop dead in his tracks. ‘Kurt, I know that the socially appropriate thing to do here is thank you for your interest, no matter how unequally it might be returned, and… if I could feel gratitude I would be thanking you right now. But I just… I can’t. I’ve never encouraged those feelings in you, and you seem horrified to even be having them.’ Kurt’s face was pale, his eyes glassy and shocked. Blaine sighed. ‘I don’t like hurting people Kurt. I don’t like hurting you. But I’m sure it will pass in no time at all.’

Kurt’s face seemed to fall, just for a second, before Kurt re-arranged it into his usual smooth, impassive expression, a crease of the brow the only indication that he was perturbed. He seemed to draw back into himself before Blaine’s eyes, spine straightening, jaw setting, eyes flashing.

‘You... don’t have feelings for me at all?’ Kurt’s normally soft voice was cold and clipped.

 _Oh I have plenty of feelings,_ Blaine thought, _but none of them are romantic._ Out loud he simply said, ‘No.’

‘But…' Kurt shook his head in disbelief. 'You and I… We hung out. We sang a flirty duet together. You know my coffee order... Was I supposed to think that was nothing?’

Blaine stared at Kurt for a second, floored. ‘Kurt… June asked us to sing and you chose the song. I didn’t mean it to be flirty…’ Kurt pressed the fingertips of one hand to his own temples, closing his eyes, so Blaine forged on. ‘I know your coffee order because you repeated it to that poor waiter at the diner about six times to make sure he’d got it, and then snapped your fingers at him to hurry it up. The coffee was on its way, Kurt, you don’t have to snap your fingers, its not gonna make it come any faster! If anything it’ll slow it down while the staff do unspeakable things to it because you’re rude to them.’

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine, gritting out, ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit rich for you to be accusing me of rudeness while you’re talking to me like this?’

Blaine scoffed, standing up to better meet Kurt's gaze. ‘It’s a bit rich for you to turn up here out of the blue and announce that you like me against your better judgement, your will, your character… I think that’s a good enough reason for me to be rude in return, if I even _was_ rude. But it’s not just that. I have a lot of reasons to dislike you, and you know it. Even if I thought you were a decent guy to begin with, do you think there’s anything you could say to make me forget the fact you deliberately ruined Sam’s happiness?’

Kurt’s cheeks blushed hotly and he crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively, but he didn’t say anything.

‘Aren’t you going to deny it?’ Kurt's audacity was breathtaking as he stood there, smug in the knowledge he'd made someone unhappy.

Kurt shook his head, tilting his chin superciliously. ‘No. I did what I thought was right, as her friend. Mercedes is my family. She’s my heart. She deserves the best. Someone who likes her for her.’

Blaine was livid, anger rearing up in his chest, burning his throat. ‘What are you talking about? Sam _is_ the best. He’s in love with her, you presumptuous ass!’

‘Well from the way he acts I assume he’s in love with half of Ohio, then!’ Kurt spat back with a bitter edge Blaine hadn't anticipated. 

‘ _Excuse_ me?’

‘Oh come on, he flirts with anyone within pouting distance, he leads everyone on! He flirts with _you_ more than anyone. He’s not into anyone but himself.’ Kurt planted his hands on his hips and faced Blaine squarely, still not looking remotely sorry or ashamed. 

‘He does not flirt with me!' Blaine was almost speechless with outrage. 'And I assume _you’re_ the expert in leading people on, since Mike says you have no interest in being in a relationship with Chandler but that doesn’t seem to stop you from sleeping with him! I swear to god I’ve _never_ met a bigger hypocrite than you!’

Kurt tensed up, arching in a way that reminded Blaine of an angry cat. ‘I’m not talking about me, I’m talking about Sam. I watched him the whole time we were in Ohio. He didn’t seem to prefer Mercedes to any other pretty girl – or boy – who crossed his path.’ 

‘Really? And you know this how? Have you considered that perhaps he shows emotions differently to you and possibly doesn’t subscribe to the ‘Kurt Hummel Method of Seduction’ where you show up unannounced with an itemised list of their faults and then tell them you’ve decided to lower yourself to be with them anyway?’

Kurt ran his hands through his hair in frustration. ‘I did what I thought was right.’ He repeated, stubbornly. ‘I did what was best for Mercedes. I don’t regret it.’

Blaine clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking with fury. ‘And do you regret what you did to Sebastian? Are you going to try and pass that off as some grand act of kindness, too?’

Kurt snapped his head around to glare at Blaine. ‘You’re certainly taking a keen interest in Sebastian,' he ground out.

‘Of course. He’s a nice guy. Anyone would be interested in what he had to say, in how badly you’ve treated him. You reduced him to poverty, you’ve taken away all the opportunities he had… you've all but ruined his life!’

‘ _I’ve_ all but ruined…’ Kurt choked out, leaning back against the wall as if he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. ‘Okay. Wow.’

Blaine stood, panting, blood hammering inside his skull. He felt like he'd gone ten rounds in the ring. He sort of had, he supposed.

‘And this is your opinion of me?’ Kurt asked him quietly.

Blaine inclined his head, looking down at his feet. He wasn’t used to this sort of confrontation, and it was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He started to feel guilt softening the edges of his anger.

When Kurt spoke again it was in a low and biting. ‘Thank you for explaining how you feel. I can see how I've appeared to you all this time. All my... faults.' He rolled the word around in his mouth, distaste twisting up his face. 'But perhaps,' he said, knowingly, 'you might have overlooked some of those faults if I hadn’t come in and been so honest about what’s been holding me back all this time. You’re willing to believe everything Sebastian says but I’m automatically cast as the bad guy? Why is that, Blaine? Why does he get the benefit of the doubt? I’ll tell you why... it’s because he flattered you and stroked your ego from the start. Perhaps if I had come in here with armfuls of roses, and flattered you, and read you poetry you might have felt differently.’

And oh - there was the anger, again. He met Kurt's gaze, steady and unblinking. ‘That’s categorically untrue. There’s absolutely no way you could have told me which would have made me want to be with you.’

Kurt reared back under the force of Blaine’s vehemence, like he'd been slapped.

‘I’m looking for romance and tenderness and… I guess I’m looking for a gentleman.’ Blaine crossed his own arms across his chest, feeling defensive about revealing any of his vulnerable heart to this cruel, arrogant man. 

Kurt flinched. ‘Are you saying I’m _not_ a gentleman?’

Blaine was incredulous. ‘Are you saying you believe you’ve acted like one?’

Kurt closed his eyes, but Blaine could see the muscles in his throat working. 

‘Kurt, since the moment I met you you’ve been totally remote, and distant, and rude. That’s… It’s the last thing I’d want in a boyfriend.’

Kurt straightened up slowly. ‘Got it.’

‘Kurt…’ He didn't like Kurt, but he didn't want to leave it like this. 

‘No. I get it, Blaine. Believe me. I… fully understand your feelings towards me, and now… All that’s left is for me to be ashamed of what mine have been.’ He moved to the door and turned, stiffly. ‘I’m sorry for bothering you when you were feeling unwell. I hope you feel better, I really do.’ And then he was gone. 

Blaine felt wrung out, limp and twisted inside like an old dish cloth. He collapsed back down onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, letting tears of exhaustion and frustration fall.


	17. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's letter. 
> 
> Warnings here for mentions of Burt and Finn's deaths, and also mention of drug use and non-con (through persuasion rather than force). Nothing graphic.
> 
> In this AU Burt and Carol never got together, so Finn and Kurt were friends but not brothers.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments - and happy new year! :)

Blaine slept very badly, tossing and turning fitfully all night. Flashbacks of what he’d said to Kurt – of what Kurt had said to him – frustrated projections of what he could have said, should have said, what Kurt would have said in return – ran in an endless loop through his mind for hour after hour. He disliked Kurt more than any other person he’d ever met. He was sure of that. The pang of guilt he’d felt as Kurt had walked out of the door, the feeling of displacement, of something lost – that was all just because Blaine was a decent, well brought up person who didn’t like to see anyone else hurting. 

As the pale dawn started to make the clouds outside glow apricot, Blaine gave up on sleep. He splashed water on his face and tugged on a loose, soft sweater, leaving his plaid pyjama pants on and curls loose. He let himself quietly out onto the deck, making his way down to the shore. He settled himself on the slope, digging his bare toes into the still-damp sand. It was pleasantly cold and granular, not yet the warm, fine powder it would become under the sun. The roughness against the sensitive skin of Blaine’s bare feet was reassuringly grounding.

He rested his folded arms on top of his bent knees, setting his chin on top of his arms. The breeze from the water was chill enough to make him sink into his sweater. He drew in a deep lungful of salty air. He didn’t know why he felt so raw about his fight with Kurt, or why the memory of Kurt’s stricken face still chafed at his conscience. It wasn’t as if he owed Kurt anything. Maybe it was just the aftershocks of the confrontation echoing through him. It had been pretty intense, especially as Kurt hadn’t even denied any of it – not Sam, not Sebastian, not Chandler. He had just stood there, so self-assured, like nobody else even mattered.

‘Blaine.’ The familiar, mellifluous voice startled Blaine from his thoughts and he turned to see Kurt, looking as tired and drawn as Blaine felt, wearing a lusciously soft cashmere sweater the color of sea foam. Blaine wanted to touch it so badly his hands itched, and he stared down at them, surprised at the strength of the urge. But then he always had been a connoisseur of fine knitwear, he told himself. 

There was a rustle of paper on the breeze, and Blaine looked up to see Kurt holding out a slim white envelope. ‘I hoped I’d find you here,’ Kurt said. He sounded very tired, and very sad. ‘I, um… Apologies for being en déshabillé…’ He waved his hand down at himself. ‘I’ve been up writing you a letter. I hope – um. I’d be grateful if you read it.’

Blaine took the envelope instinctively with one hand, nodding at Kurt as he pushed his breeze-ruffled curls out of his eyes with the other. ‘Of course.’

Kurt did a funny little nod-bow thing and then turned to stride away across the sand, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pale-wash jeans, head bent. 

Blaine stared down at the envelope in his hands. His name was written carefully across the front in what must be Kurt’s neat, cursive script. He carefully lifted the flap of the envelope and slid out several crisp white pages within. They were all covered with the same neat hand-writing. He held the pages carefully, firm against the breeze which was trying to pluck them from his hands. He wondered what on earth Kurt could have to say that he hadn’t already said. He felt apprehension prickle along his nerves, but it was far outweighed by his curiosity. He glanced down the beach and saw that Kurt’s lean, muscled form was gone from sight. Blaine took a deep breath and began to read. 

_‘Dear Blaine,_

_You don’t need to worry that this letter is a repeat of the sentiments which were, last night, so disgusting to you. I’m not writing to further our fight, or dwell on my feelings for you. In fact, for your happiness and mine, I think it would be best if I forgot those as soon as possible._

_Last night you made some serious accusations about my behaviour, past and present - about my separating Mercedes from Sam, about my having ruined Sebastian’s prospects, and about my relationship with Chandler. I’m not sure why, Blaine, but I feel like I can’t rest properly until I’ve addressed the charges laid at my door._

_I’d like to start by explaining the motives behind my detaching Mercedes from Sam. In the course of this explanation I might relay feelings of mine which are offensive to yours, and for that I’m sorry, but I have to be honest._

_We hadn’t been back in Ohio for long, last fall, before I realised that Mercedes was developing strong feelings for Sam. It wasn’t until the party at Netherfield, though, that I realised she was planning a real future for them – that she felt like she was in love._

_I’ve seen Mercedes in love before, and so far she has always had her heart broken, so I was wary. I felt like the development of a relationship between she and Sam was risky from the start, with the long distance. I wanted to be sure – to be reassured – that his feelings were strong enough to withstand long distances, long absences, and very different circumstances for them both. Sam is, I will admit, a friendly and charming guy. But he’s flirtatious and friendly with everyone, and I didn’t think that was enough to build a future on. He didn’t seem to be especially partial to her over, say, you. If I’m wrong in this and there is a genuine depth of feeling on Sam’s part – and I will now assume the latter because you know him much better than I do - then I understand your resentment towards me._

_I will admit that I wanted to believe he was indifferent to her just as much as he showed he was in the way he behaved. Mr Schue mentioned that Sam has been homeless in the past, and you yourself have made reference to your difficult financial situation. This not only sets up an unequal relationship on their part, but also makes things like long distance very difficult. I hope you understand that I am not trying to accuse Sam of anything here, but Mercedes and I have both been used before, and if it feels like there’s the slightest chance of it happening again I get very protective._

_I have, once or twice now, overheard your friends talking about Sam and Mercedes amongst themselves – and I’m sorry, I don’t want to offend you – but they were crude, delighting in the prospect of Sam having a girlfriend with money and connections. You and Sam have always seemed like very charming, decent guys, but in light of my lack of prior knowledge of Sam, the behaviour of your friends swayed me._

_Chandler felt the same way as I did, and after a lot of thought I sat down and talked with Mercedes about my concerns. Sam had never told Mercedes he felt anything strongly for her, so it seemed like the right decision for us to leave Ohio and get some space. I still don’t regret what I did, but I’m not proud of what happened next. Between Chandler and I we blocked Sam on Mercedes’ social media and phone, and though we both knew that Sam was in LA we made sure Mercedes never knew – she still doesn’t. I thought if they met up it would be painful for her. I probably went too far. But what’s done is done – and I did it for the best. It wasn’t my intention to hurt Sam, honestly._

_With respect to Sebastian… The history there is something that’s very painful, for me and other people too. I know that you think I abandoned my childhood friend, that I refused to honor my late father’s wishes, but I’m not sure what specifically he’s accused me of, so I’ll explain our whole history to you._

_Sebastian and I lived next door to each other and were best friends growing up. His father is a complicated, deeply religious man. He worked all the time and was away a lot, so Bas was at our house almost every day. He very often slept over, before he started at Dalton and boarded there during the week. Even then he was at mine most weekends. He was my best friend in the whole world. He was there when my mom died when I was eight years old. He was who I talked to when I first knew I was gay. He was there for me when my first kiss was stolen by a sexually repressed Neanderthal in the locker room at school. He was family._

_He eventually came out to his father just after he graduated from Dalton. He had changed, somehow, at Dalton – I don’t know if being away from his parents lowered his inhibitions, or if there were a few more gay guys at Dalton so there were more opportunities for him, but he started to go to a lot of parties, drinking, smoking, having casual flings with boys. I figured it was just a phase of him growing up. Honestly, I was a little bit jealous – at McKinley I was the only one out of the closet. I knew nothing about boys – I was pretty much a baby penguin. It was a lonely time for me._

_When Bas came out to his dad, on top of the reports of his bad behaviour at school, his dad disowned him. My own, amazing father, who died just a couple of months after my high school graduation, took Sebastian in. He had always loved him like a son. Bas settled in fine, and for a while he even seemed like his old self._

_My dad had spoken with both of us about putting Sebastian through college. I was so excited to be going to New York with my best friend. But as soon as my dad died Bas went off the rails. He was out drinking and doing drugs every night, bringing random guys home (to my dad’s home – my family home). He was furious when I asked him to stop, so he began staying out all night instead. I hardly recognised him from the sweet, sensitive boy I had been friends with all my life. I felt like I had lost my best friend as well as my father._

_One day he sat me down and said he didn’t think college was for him – he wanted to travel. He asked for the money we would have spent on college upfront. I thought long and hard about it because my dad had been so excited to see us both go to college. Then I realised that college isn’t for everyone and I don’t believe anyone should be forced down a path that isn’t right for them. So I gave him a lump sum, and continued with my own plans for college in New York, without him._

_He disappeared shortly afterwards. He did do some travelling, to my knowledge – to Paris, and Monaco, where he blew through the money in just a few short months. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that it was hard for me to hear about him wasting the money my father always worked so hard for. I hoped it was just a phase, maybe a part of his grieving process for the loss of both of our fathers. I hoped he would come back to me._

_And one day he did. Unfortunately it was under the most painful of circumstances._

_You probably saw, during your time at McKinley, a plaque on the wall for Finn Hudson. He was the lead singer all through my time in Glee club, and a really, really great guy. He and my best friend Rachel dated – were in love, in fact, even though it was complicated. She had big Broadway dreams, just like mine, and we both got accepted into NYADA. She and I decided to live together after everything fell through with Sebastian. Finn, on the other hand, didn’t share those dreams. He loved Lima, loved the small-town life. He decided to stay and train to be a teacher. They weren’t together, but they were still in love. I think they always would have been._

_Then, during our first year at college, Finn died. It was sudden, unexpected, horrific. Rachel was devastated. Was, is, always will be. He was her person, and she was his._

_Sebastian turning up on the doorstep of our loft, clean, happy, and put-together just like the old days, was like a godsend. He was charming and fun and distracting in the best way. We let him stay with us, of course – he seemed so much better. He would take care of Rachel when I had class or a shift at the diner where I worked. I got him a job as my understudy for an off-off Broadway play I was doing. Everything seemed to be okay. Rachel even got a call back for Fanny in Funny Girl - though she cried during the audition._

_I don’t know why I never saw the signs. I had always thought Bas was just misguided, going through a rough patch but still the same good guy he'd always been, deep down. I blame myself for how easily Rachel trusted him. She and Bas spent all their time together. He took her out to bars and they'd come home in the early hours, and I was a little worried but I was mainly relieved that she was happy and having a good time. I guess she felt safe with him because he was my friend. She told me afterwards that he was pressuring her to drink, to try things, get higher, fall harder._

 _Sometimes he'd pressure her to kiss boys who showed interest in her, and let them touch her. He told her she needed it to move on, or that she wasn't fun any more if she didn't. One night he was really pushing her to let this guy, Brody, dance with her. Bas kept buying her drink after drink, basically pushing her into Brody's arms, and in the end she brought him back to the loft even though she wasn't really ready yet. She says she doesn't remember much of what happened that night, but when she woke up Brody was gone, and Bas was sitting on the end of her bed with this strange smile on his face. It turned out that Brody was a male hooker Bas had hired, and he'd used him to talk Rachel into taking nude photos - some posed, some in flagrante delicto, all potentially career-ending. Rachel said it was like Bas turned into a totally different person overnight. He became cold and distant, sarcastic and cruel. Then he asked her for money. He threatened to leak the photos, to ruin her career._

_She gave him what she had, but he wanted more. Money, connections, jobs – I think, now, that he would have bled her dry. That’s when she came to me. I've never been as shocked, or heart-broken. We invited him into our home, into our family, and to take advantage of somebody so vulnerable… It made me sick. It still does, to think of it. I blamed myself for letting him in. I had to fix it._

_I sent Rachel back to Ohio to stay with her dads for the weekend. Then my friend Elliot took Bas out for drinks to distract him while I destroyed his laptop and searched his room for any negatives or memory cards. Elliot slipped his phone away from him and threw it down a storm drain. When he got home I’d packed his things and left them in the hall._

_In that respect I suppose you could say that I impoverished him, or was wrong to take what didn’t belong to me. But I don’t regret that either, and I never will. Maybe he’s different now, maybe he’s reformed. But back then..._

_I went to work the next night to find he’d already been fired because someone had found him in my dressing room, doing coke off of some naked guy. It turned out he’d been spreading terrible rumors about me, about Rachel. The whole thing was such a mess._

_I hadn’t seen him for several years, so it was quite a shock to see him in that diner in Ohio. I find being back in Ohio difficult, Blaine, because it represents a huge amount of loss for me. My mom, my dad – even Sebastian, who I always thought of like a brother. I didn’t realise how much my discomfort affected my outward behaviour until yesterday, when you pointed it out. Maybe what happened with Bas has made me more suspicious... more protective... I'm not sure._

_I know you don’t trust me, but if you want you can ask Mike, who knows everything, and has no reason to lie about anything. Even if you don’t trust me I hope that you know I would never ever spread lies about anyone, let alone my closest friends._

_All that remains to be said is this… I adored my dad. He was the wisest man I’ve ever known. I can only hope to become half of the man he was. And he told me, once, not to throw myself around like I don’t matter. So I hope you’ll tread carefully with Sebastian, Blaine. Because you matter._

_I hadn’t realised, until last night, when you accurately pointed out to me my transgressions with Chandler, that I had forgotten that advice myself. I will try to take it to heart once more and follow it more carefully in the future._

_With best wishes,_

_Kurt Hummel'_

Blaine read the letter carefully, then he read it again. He folded the leaves of paper up, gingerly replacing them in the envelope. He ran his thumb over his name, standing out starkly in black ink. It was almost shockingly intimate, Kurt’s story written out in his own handwriting, on paper he had touched. It was profoundly personal, in a way that an email could never have been. He sat for a few minutes more, staring out at the blues and greens of the ocean, dotted here and there with a few tiny, colourful surfers. He stood, numbly. He wanted to go back to his room, shower, drink some coffee, and read the letter again. He had a lot to think about.


	18. Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another chapter to go up very soon, before real life gets crazy.
> 
> Thanks so, so much for the comments! x

Blaine wasn’t mad at Kurt, any more. He wanted to be. After all, Kurt had still messed up Sam’s relationship. He’d still been haughty and superior and infuriating. He’d still been _Kurt._

But when Blaine looked back and viewed the last few months through the clarifying lens of Kurt’s letter… When he reconsidered Kurt’s behaviour in the context of a painful past and honourable (albeit badly executed) intentions… Everything was different. 

He still felt like Kurt had over-stepped when it came to Sam and Mercedes. But Kurt hadn’t exactly been wrong about Sam’s flirtatious nature, and he remembered Thad’s observation that Sam should try harder to reassure Mercedes about how he felt about her. Kurt’s assertion that he hadn’t been aware that he was hurting Sam, that it was unintentional, rang true. Blaine couldn’t help but feel hopeful about Sam and Mercedes, for the first time in a long time.

Honestly, Blaine was mostly mad at himself. He was forced to admit that there might be more than a grain of truth in Kurt’s comment about Blaine's determination to see him in a bad light this whole time because of their inauspicious start – since he’d wounded Blaine’s pride with his outburst at Sugar’s party, really. Guilt flashed through him when he thought of Eli. Maybe he was just as culpable as Kurt when it came to not giving people proper chances. He felt deeply ashamed of himself. He couldn’t think about Kurt or Sebastian without feeling like he’d been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

He re-read the section of Kurt’s letter concerning Sebastian. He couldn’t believe how easily he’d been taken in. He didn’t feel the need to ask Mike if it was true. He assumed Kurt would never have made the offer if he hadn’t been absolutely certain Mike would corroborate what he’d said. And besides, if Blaine knew anything about Kurt, it was that he was fiercely protective of his close friends. He would never share information like this about Rachel unless he really had to. 

Blaine felt oddly honoured that Kurt trusted him with it. He remembered the sharp sense of disappointment he’d felt when he’d gone to June’s house to see Kurt, a few hours after Kurt had given him the letter, only to find he’d already left to return to New York. It felt unnervingly like something had slipped through his fingers. 

The seat-belt sign blinked on overhead, and the captain made a crackly announcement that they were about to land. He brushed his fingertips over Kurt’s name on the paper, over the sweep of the K, and then folded it up and tucked it carefully back into his inside pocket before fastening his seat-belt. Sam had arrived the day before him, and Blaine couldn’t wait to see him. If anyone could help Blaine straighten out some of his tangled feelings, and soothe his bruised ego, it was Sam. 

Sam turned out to be waiting for Blaine at the airport, holding up a cardboard sign with ‘Mr Anderson’ on it, his face plastered with a goofy grin. Blaine let out a squeak as Sam rushed at him, scooping him up and spinning him round, before setting him back down with a friendly slap on the butt, and okay yeah, maybe Kurt also had a point about his and Sam’s relationship appearing a little more than just platonic. Infuriating man.

Sam looked sun-kissed and gorgeous and familiar, and Blaine immediately felt a little of the tension melt away from his shoulders as Sam slung an arm around them.

Thad and Eli had arranged a car for them, and after Blaine had grabbed his bag they settled down into the backseat, comparing the weather in LA and Florida and how their trips had been, before both agreeing that what they urgently needed was an enormous Ohioan burger.

The car dropped them at the diner they’d been to with Kurt and Mercedes, and Blaine’s heart dropped a little at the memory of how Tina, Kitty and Lauren must have come across. And not just then – Kurt and Mercedes had been kind enough to organise and pay for an extravagant party, and they’d had that food fight and then Tina had practically attacked the lead singer of the band… He cringed a little, thinking about it. 

But on the other hand, Kurt _had_ been supercilious and arrogant. He _had_ snapped his fingers at the wait staff and muttered condescendingly with Chandler, and he _had_ been distant and remote, and dismissive of things that were important to Blaine. Blaine hadn’t imagined any of that. God, this whole thing was so confusing. His eyes slid to the jukebox where he’d first met Sebastian and he felt his stomach churn uncomfortably.

When he turned back, Sam was looking at him, his expression questioning. Before he could ask anything, though, they were enveloped in hugs and squeals from Kitty, Tina and Lauren, who were all there to have dinner with them as a surprise. ‘Oh my god I missed you so much, Blainey-Days!’ Tina hugged Blaine so tightly he thought he might have cracked a rib. 

‘I am getting so much bacon!’ Kitty said, throwing herself into the booth next to Sam. ‘And we’re buying dinner for you both!’ 

Blaine grinned and was about to thank her, feeling guilty for ever thinking badly of her, when she added ‘Only you have to lend us the money first, ‘cos we forgot our purses in our excitement at seeing you again.’

He rolled his eyes, and ordered the biggest burger on the menu. He loved his girls, but sometimes they needed to come with a side of fries.

*

Back at home, Blaine and Sam went up to Blaine’s room to get his case unpacked. Once they had privacy, Sam settled himself on Blaine’s pillows. ‘Talk, Anderson,’ he said, wiggling his butt back to get more comfortable. 

So Blaine told him everything that had happened, from meeting June, to Kurt’s confession of love, to Kurt’s revelatory letter (although he didn’t mention anything about Kurt’s role in convincing Mercedes that Sam wasn’t interested – he hadn’t quite decided how to handle that yet). The more he talked about Sebastian, the more he realised that, yes, Seb had been charming, but always as a means of getting what he wanted. Blaine couldn’t recall him ever actually paying for a drink. He’d always somehow persuaded the barista or barman to give him one for free. He couldn’t recall Seb ever being especially kind. Blaine had been content to accept that Sebastian’s easy smile and prep school charm equated to him being a good person. He had never really thought to look under the surface. He did remember occasions where Seb’s hands had wandered farther than Blaine would allow, and how Seb had tried to sweet talk him into more – only just stopping short of being pushy. 

He groaned, putting his head in his hands. ‘God, I’ve been so oblivious, Sam! I feel so _stupid…’_

‘Hey, no, Sebastian fooled everyone. All of us have been hanging out with him, all of us liked him.’ Sam laid a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘This was a long time ago and he was only young. Maybe he was just a misguided kid who’s trying to change his life now?’

Blaine laughed, a touch bitterly. ‘Oh, Sam. I love how much you want everyone in the world to be good. But this time you won’t be able to make them both good. One has all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it. There’s just enough there to make one good sort of man. And right now I’m inclined to think it all belongs to Kurt…’

‘Oh man, that’s rough.’ Sam winced in empathy.

‘And I was so mean to him, Sam. I said all these horrible things…’ Blaine’s voice became muffled as Sam wrapped him in a hug, and he clung back gratefully.

‘I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.’ Sam rubbed his back soothingly.

Blaine’s mind dredged up the now familiar memory of Kurt’s shocked, wide eyes. ‘No,’ he said, wetly. ‘It really, really was.’ He sat up and cleared his throat, trying to get himself together. ‘So, hey, I need your advice on something.’ He forced himself to sound cheerier than he was.

‘Sure, anything.’ 

‘Should I tell our friends about Sebastian? Should I warn them?’ His fingers automatically went to the letter in his inside pocket, stroking down the crisp crease.

Sam paused, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘I don’t see that there’s a reason to expose him like that. What do you think?’

‘I feel the same way. Kurt hasn’t given me permission to make it public. Actually everything relating to Rachel is meant to be kept as private as possible. And if I don’t include that information then who would believe me? They all hate Kurt so much…’

‘And besides, maybe Sebastian is different now. He might be sorry for what happened. We can’t ruin a guy for something that happened years ago.’

‘No. I want to talk to him, anyway. Find out why he lied to me. We have a date tomorrow. Whatever happens it’ll be our last, but I want to give him the chance to explain. I haven’t been doing that enough, it seems.’

Sam tilted his head a little. 'Alright. But be careful. And don't you dare start stress-gelling!'

Blaine blushed. 'What? I don't... I don't do that...' He cleared his throat, grateful to be interrupted by Tina knocking on the door and popping her head into the room.

'T, I was just telling Blaine that if I smell even a hint of raspberries in this bedroom I will bust out my scariest Jack Nicholson impression, and man, you do not want to be on the receiving end of me in full flow!'

Blaine felt his eyes glaze over a little as Tina leaned in and whispered, 'He seriously doesn't even hear himself, does he?'

As he watched Tina tease Sam he was grateful that, while his love life might be in sad tatters once again, and his professional future was uncertain, some things always stayed the same.

*

The next day Blaine met Sebastian in their usual coffee shop. Blaine made sure to get there exactly on time, rolling his eyes when he saw Sebastian at the counter sweet-talking a couple of coffees out of the barista.

He sat down opposite Sebastian, avoiding a hug. He couldn't bear the thought of Seb touching him at all.

‘So, did you have fun in Destin? Did you meet the great June Dolloway?’ Sebastian grinned at him, but now it just seemed calculating to Blaine, with no real warmth behind it. 

‘Yes, and yes.’ Blaine smiled back at him. ‘I had a great time, thank you. And yes, I met June a few times. She was very, uh, hospitable, grand dame that she is. Also Kurt was there, with his friend Mike Chang, I don’t know if you know him?’

Sebastian’s drink paused halfway to his mouth, eyes flicking over Blaine's face appraisingly. ‘I do know him, yes. Nice guy. Much nicer than Kurt.’ 

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Blaine half-smiled and took a sip of his drink. ‘I found that Kurt improves on closer acquaintance.’

‘Really?’ Sebastian scoffed, his face turning murderous before he wrestled it back to his usual slightly smug expression. ‘Was it all for show, do you think? Seems unlikely he’d change who he is as a person in the space of a few weeks.’

Blaine cocked his head, looking at Sebastian thoughtfully. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I believe he's exactly the same person he’s always been.’

Sebastian looked uncertain, so Blaine continued, ‘I guess I mean that… he behaved very much as he always has, but my knowing him better helped me understand him better.’

Sebastian's face tensed in irritation, then alarm, and he seemed to choose his words carefully before speaking. ‘Well he always has been under June’s thumb. I guess he must have been putting on a show of good manners for her sake. I hope no-one else was fooled. I would hate for anyone else to get taken in by him the same way I did.’

Blaine sighed and shook his head, no longer inclined to indulge him and his fictional tale of woe. ‘Sebastian… I know the truth of what happened with you and Kurt. So please can we just be honest, here? Look, I’m not happy that you lied to me but I want to give you the chance to explain.’

Sebastian dropped his head so Blaine couldn’t see his face. Blaine wondered if he was hiding regret, or fear, but when he looked back up again his face was hard, green eyes flinty. 

He stretched his arms out as if shaking off the weight of a heavy yoke, and drawled, ‘Oh thank god. When there was a chance of getting laid this was all worth it but these last few weeks have just been boring. Being nice _sucks.’_

Blaine’s mouth went dry and his hands tightened around his cup. ‘That’s all this has been to you? You just wanted to get laid and move on?’

Sebastian shrugged and smirked. ‘You’re pretty,’ he said, as though that explained everything. ‘Even so, I’d normally have moved on weeks ago, when it became clear you weren’t going to give it up. But it was just so entertaining that it was obviously driving Kurt out of his tiny mind with jealousy, and you were so beautifully fucking oblivious.’ He smiled thinly, and suddenly the planes of his face were sharp and cruel. 

This was the real Sebastian. The man behind the mask. Blaine felt stung, and a little sick, but not as surprised as he should have been. He was just grateful he’d found out the truth before they’d gone any further, emotionally or otherwise. He stood up abruptly. ‘Goodbye, Sebastian.’

He turned on his heel and left. Blaine didn't look back, and Sebastian didn't try to follow. 

*

The following week Blaine went back to school, ready for his final few weeks before graduation. He wanted a little bit of space to think over everything that he now knew about Kurt, a little bit of time. But it seemed he wasn’t destined to get it. It turned out that Kurt had scored the lead in a much-anticipated musical adaptation of Peter Pan on Broadway, with an acclaimed director and a glittering, star-studded cast. Blaine suspected it had been finalised during some of the more hushed conversations in June Dolloway’s Destin drawing room. 

Over the next couple of weeks it seemed like all anybody talked about was Kurt. He was the main topic of conversation on the New Direction alumni’s group Facebook page, and Mr Schue tweeted about it at least three times a day. Blaine was inundated with pictures of Kurt arriving at rehearsals in yoga pants and sunglasses, pictures of Kurt with his co-stars, and several weeks later, promotional pictures of him in costume, complete with jaunty green cap. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of the pages of the book; other-worldly, ethereal. 

Finally, after an hour of staring at the pictures of Kurt's beautiful, inscrutable face one night when he was technically supposed to be studying for a final, Blaine called Cooper, the one person who could be safely relied upon to talk about himself rather than Kurt. He just needed to not think about Kurt, for a little while. He wanted not to think at all, really - and Cooper was a master of the art.

‘Squirt!’ Cooper’s voice resounded down the line so loudly Blaine had to hold his phone away from his ear. 

‘Hey, Coop!’

‘How’s school little bro? Excited to be within touching distance of graduation?’

‘Yeah… I just wish I knew what I wanted to do afterwards.’ Blaine lay back on his bed and examined his ceiling.

Cooper laughed. ‘Blainers, you are the most focused, determined kid I’ve ever known. Except for myself, of course. You already know what you want to do. You just have to do it.’

Blaine sighed. Cooper was irritatingly astute sometimes, for someone so self-obsessed. 

‘I want… I want to go to New York. I just don’t know if I can, Coop. Mom’s so lonely. I can’t just leave her.’

There was a pause. ‘Well this seems like a good time to tell you my news.’

Blaine rolled his eyes. Typical Cooper. ‘Yes, well, we’re obviously done with my thing already.’

‘Alright, hold your horses, Captain Snark, this is actually something that concerns you!’

‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m all ears.’

Cooper paused dramatically. ‘Maria and I are planning on coming back to Ohio.’

‘What?’ Blaine couldn’t believe it. ‘Really? Why?’

‘I want Katie to know her grandma. I want her to know what actual seasons look like. I want her to make snow angels in the winter. I want to be nearer to mom, too. And Maria is all for being closer to her family. I can do a lot of voice over work in local studios, and I thought I’d do some tutoring in drama. And it’s your turn now, Blaine, to do what you want to do.’

‘I…’ Blaine tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. The potential opportunities his future held had opened up so immeasurably in the last sixty seconds he couldn’t even catch his breath. ‘Coop, really?’

‘Really. Maria has already applied for a job with Lima Heights Elementary. She has an interview in a couple of weeks. And listen, we thought after we flew in for that, maybe you’d like a little break with us in New York for a few days? We have air miles to use, and the hotel stay would be our graduation present to you. It falls right over Katie’s seventh birthday.’

‘Oh my god, Coop – of course!’

‘Yes!’ Cooper whooped. ‘We can see all the sights, go up the Empire State Building, take pictures with the naked cowboy. I bet I could teach him so much about posing. I can’t wait! Ooh, I’ve been dying to try out my new selfie stick!’

Blaine groaned. ‘Oh god, Coop, please don’t tell you have a narcissistick. I absolutely cannot be seen in public with you if you’re going to use one of those.’

‘Blainey…’ Cooper whined, ‘It’s my new gadget! You have to let me play with it…’

Blaine sighed. ‘How are you a father? You lucked out _stupendously_ with Maria, you know that, right?’

‘I know.’ Blaine could hear the love in Cooper’s voice radiating down the line. It was sickening, and lovely, and Blaine was so jealous it made his teeth ache. 

‘I can’t wait to see you guys.’ He missed them all so much.

‘Can’t wait to see you either, Squirt.’

Blaine buried his face in his pillow. ‘Ugh, I take it all back! You’re a monster!’

Cooper laughed. ‘You love me.’

‘I do.’ 

‘I love you, too.’

Blaine closed his eyes, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Good. Take care, little bro!’

‘You too, Coop. And squeeze that gorgeous niece of mine for me.’

'I will.'

*

Kurt gripped the sword firmly by the hilt, and stared down his reflection in the mirror. He was supposed to be learning the choreography for a fight scene, but all he could think about was Blaine. He swung at his instructor again, managing a minute or two of parrying before he lost his thread of concentration. He let out a grunt of frustration and collapsed back against the mirrored wall, panting with exertion.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Nate, throwing him a towel. ‘You’ll get it. You’re almost there.’

Kurt swigged a bottle of water and then wiped his brow and his neck before drying off his hands, nodding gratefully. 

‘We should rest, and come back to this tomorrow.’

‘No!’ Kurt said, too loudly for the mirrored, echoey room. ‘No. Let’s go again. I really want to get this.’

‘Okay.’ Nate picked up his own sword, and the hook that Captain Hook would use as a second weapon in battle. 

Kurt took his starting position, allowing himself a second or two to think about dark curls and honey-gold eyes, warm for everyone else but cold for him, before he shoved the thoughts away, ready to channel his hurt and frustration into the choreography. 

‘I _will_ conquer this,’ he ground out, low and raw, his eyes stinging with salt that he swore to himself was from sweat, not tears. 'I have to.'


	19. Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for taking artistic liberties with the set-up of a Broadway theater!
> 
> Thanks, as always, for sticking with me :)

Blaine pressed his nose to the glass of the window, trying to get the best view possible of the busy street below. He watched yellow cabs weave in and out of the traffic, the drivers practised and assertive. The throngs of people on the sidewalk were dressed for early summer; light jackets and the odd bright dress, scarves and sunglasses both. He couldn’t get enough of how New York felt to him – the bustle, the energy, the life. He watched until his breath fogged up the pane in front of him and then he closed his eyes and listened to the hubbub of the city. It was exciting. He hoped fervently that the job interview he’d done the previous afternoon had gone as well as he thought it had. He felt, low and certain in his belly, that this was where he needed to be, someday. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

He was finally forced from the window by a knock on his door. Cooper barrelled into the room before he even got the door fully open, a goofy grin spread across his face. ‘Great news, Squirt!’

Blaine rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him. ‘Good morning, ridiculous brother of mine, please tell me more about your exciting news, and dear god, please stop calling me that.’ 

‘I have just gotten off the phone to my friend, Kennedy – you remember Kennedy, we were in that commercial together for indigestion tablets where she was a damsel in distress from eating too much spicy food, and I noticed from across the jousting field, and pointed at her and said-’

‘I remember, Coop!’ Blaine interrupted, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. ‘Some of your best work. What was this news?’

Cooper, frozen mid gesticulation, pursed his lips. ‘Oh, yeah. Well, she’s in New York right now, and she knows someone in the new musical of Peter Pan at the Neil Simon theater, who says we can go and have a backstage tour this morning if we want!’ He held his phone aloft, triumphantly.

Blaine’s stomach plummeted to the floor through his feet. Peter Pan at the Neil Simon. Starring Kurt Hummel. Kurt Hummel who Blaine had not seen since in person he’d dropped off his infuriating, vulnerable, utterly confusing letter, but whom he’d thought about every single day. ‘Oh, uh, I don’t know, Coop…’

Cooper strode over and put a comforting hand on Blaine’s shoulder. ‘She promised me that none of the actors will be there until about five. So if we get going we can have a good nose around and be out hours before anyone but stage hands are there. What do you think?’

‘Cooper…’ Blaine still felt weird about snooping around the place Kurt was currently working at, even if Kurt himself wasn’t going to be there. 

‘Please, Blaine? Katie would love it so much, and how often do you get a backstage tour like this? It’s still in preview performances, we could check out the set, the costumes…’ Cooper’s blue gaze bore into Blaine’s eyes pleadingly.

It was really, really tempting. Blaine sighed. ‘Alright, fine. But we’re not staying longer than an hour, alright? I don’t want to take any chances.’

‘Yes!’ Cooper pumped his fist into the air. ‘You’re the best, Squirt! Ready to go in twenty minutes, then? Katie’s going to be my biggest fan after this. I might win actual parenting awards. I should practice my speech! Ladies, gentlemen, and my little brother, Squirt…’ Cooper whirled out of the door in the direction of their room, next door.

Blaine laughed and shook his head, calling after him, ‘Twenty minutes. And don’t call me that!’

*

On the subway Blaine explained a little of his complicated history with Kurt to Maria, who was one of his favorite people in the world. She was a little bit smaller than Blaine, with soft, pretty features and huge brown eyes. She was vivacious, and adored Cooper but didn't take any of his nonsense. She steadied and supported Cooper, and Cooper worshipped her with every ounce of his boyish enthusiasm. It seemed like Katie had inherited Cooper's height and Maria's eyes, her energy out-matching both of them combined.

Maria was sympathetic and sweet, and they both agreed it was a good thing Kurt wasn’t going to be there. They didn’t need any conflict, especially for Katie, who was practically effervescing with excitement as they walked from the subway to the theatre. Blaine tried not to look at Kurt gazing out of all the promotional posters, hands jauntily on his hips, looking boyish and handsome, face as frustratingly inscrutable as ever.

They were met at the stage door by a tall, good looking guy with several piercings and tattoos. He greeted them with an outstretched hand and a huge grin. ‘Hi, I’m Elliott, Kennedy’s friend. I’m one of the pirate crew.’ 

Katie warmed to Elliott immediately and asked him question after question as he led them inside, past the call board and through a maze of corridors and stairs. By the time Elliott had shown them the Green Room and the ensemble dressing rooms, Blaine’s head was spinning and he had no idea where they were in the building any more. 'So this is Kurt?' Maria asked, stopping by one of the promotional posters which had been tacked up on the female ensemble dressing room wall.

'That's right.' Elliott grinned. 'I've worked with him before. Known him for years. He's the best.'

'Yeah?' Maria glanced over at Blaine, trying to hide her confusion. Between Sam staying with them and the snippets she'd heard from Blaine's roommates when they'd stopped in during their two days in Ohio, Blaine could only imagine what sort of heinous individual she must imagine Kurt to be.

'You know him?' Elliott asked Blaine, following Maria's gaze.

Blaine shifted on his feet uncomfortably. 'Only a little. We met a few times back in Ohio.'

'Oh, if I'd known I'd have got you guys to come in later this afternoon, then you'd have caught him. He's usually here early.' Elliott spread his hands apologetically.

Blaine's eyes widened as panic twisted in his gut. 'Oh no, that's fine. I'm sure he's very busy. Actually, um, could you possibly not mention we were here at all? I'll try to catch up with him another time.'

Elliott's brow quirked with interest. 'Sure, yeah. Whatever you want. Hey, Katie, c'mere, I wanna show you my festering pirate sores!'

'Yeah!' Katie pumped her fist in a scarily Cooper-esque gesture, and followed Elliott down the hall, her dark ponytail bouncing behind her. Blaine knew Cooper would spend forever in Hair and Make-up, trying on as many wigs and prosthetics as possible, so he slipped away, trying to find a quiet place to sift through his thoughts.

Being backstage like this was overwhelming. It was somehow both terribly glamorous and not glamorous at all, both mysterious and grittily real. Blaine had performed in small local musicals before, but never anywhere like this. He found himself back at the orchestra pit, running his hand over the keyboard gently. Any of this could have been his future. He took a deep breath and tried to re-join his little group, but couldn’t figure out where they had gone because the corridors were labyrinthine, and confusingly all made out of the same identical breeze-block and white concrete mix.

He took a small staircase down a floor, and then a left, and suddenly found himself in the wings of the stage, surrounded by heavy curtains and the scent of whatever they used to clean down the floors. He touched his fingertips to the backdrop, marvelling at the intricacy, the workmanship.

Then he heard a noise – a soft scuffling – that made him peer around the piece of set, and oh god, there was _Kurt,_ centre-stage, dressed in a flowy, almost sheer, white cotton shirt with blousy sleeves, skin-tight green hose, and brown leather riding boots. He was swinging a sword around himself in a complex, precise pattern, extending his arms up over his head and then moving gracefully down into a crouch, in what was clearly a choreographed routine. 

The wide, low neckline of his shirt kept slipping down to expose sculpted collarbones. His cheeks were flushed, his hair messy and sweaty, and he looked… he looked… _like sex,_ Blaine’s mind helpfully supplied. Blaine stood frozen in the wings, struck immobile and dumb, like his breath had been punched out of his chest. It was so unexpected, seeing Kurt undone like this and then having such a visceral reaction to it. 

Heat flashed through him and he licked his dry lips unconsciously as he watched the way Kurt’s shoulders moved under his fine, light shirt. He swallowed thickly. His heart was racing and his knees felt like they might give way. Suddenly he remembered where he was. What was Kurt even doing here? 

Oh god, what if Kurt saw him? He couldn’t face him, not now, what would Kurt say? What would Kurt _think?_ He turned quickly to leave, dodging props, but in his scramble to get out as fast as possible he walked into a metal container that fell over with a resounding ‘clang’. He froze. _Damn._

‘Blaine?’ Kurt’s voice was high and breathy, but the single syllable stopped Blaine in his tracks. ‘Is that… Is it you?’

Blaine turned, slowly, coming face to face with a sweaty, breathless, sword-wielding Kurt. He swallowed. ‘Wow. Um, hi. I meant hi. Not wow. Not that it’s not, you know, wow, but I meant…’ He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, laughing a little. ‘I meant hi.’

Kurt stared at him like he’d grown another head. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi. Um, I’m so sorry, we would never have come if we’d known you were going to be here. We came to see the theatre, um, we thought you wouldn't be here 'til later on…’ he realised he was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop blurting out stupid things every time he opened his mouth. He determinedly looked everywhere but at Kurt, so he missed the look of hurt that flashed across Kurt’s face.

‘Blaine? It’s okay, really. I understand. I wasn’t supposed to be in until later, but we just added some new moves to the fight scene this morning and I’ve got it down in the rehearsal room, but I wanted to try it out on stage, make sure it works with the costume and the staging before the others get here. I like to be prepared, so…’

Blaine looked up at him finally, trying to focus on his eyes and not the drops of sweat that were rolling down his chest onto his damp shirt, making it cling to the skin beneath, though then he just seemed to fixate on how long Kurt's eyelashes were, damply spiky.

‘Um, how are you?’ Blaine mentally rolled his eyes at how awkward he sounded.

Kurt shifted from one foot to the other. It seemed he was just as awkward. ‘Good, thanks. Yeah. You? Are you staying here? In New York, I mean, not here as in here at the theatre, obviously, although it sort of feels like I live here sometimes and if I dared to go home for more than six hours at a time the director would set a plague of Shubert Alley locusts on all my furniture and some of my pieces are _vintage…’_

Kurt’s nervous monologue was so endearing that Blaine couldn’t help but laugh, which made Kurt stop, open his mouth briefly then close it again, then look away with this adorable little smile.

Blaine couldn’t help but be charmed, a little. This Kurt wasn’t one he had ever seen before. There was no haughty chin, no defensively crossed arms, no wrinkled nose. Kurt’s face was open, his posture relaxed. His soft shirt left the long, pale column of his neck exposed, and he looked sweet, and undone, and so, so sexy. 

‘I’m with my brother and his family. We’re here for a few days, staying at The Lambton. We thought we’d use up some of Cooper’s air-miles, and celebrate my niece’s birthday at the same time. She turned seven yesterday.’

‘Oh that’s nice. Are you having a tour or did you sneak in? I’m not sure I can consort with stowaways.’ Kurt teased.

Blaine grinned widely. ‘No we had an invitation, don’t worry.’

Kurt shrugged. ‘I snuck into the Gershwin, my first time in New York, back when I was sixteen. Sang a song onstage with Rachel, pretended we were stars. It was one of those pivotal, life-changing moments, you know?’

Blaine looked at Kurt, breathless and glowing and luminous before him, and rather thought he did know. Kurt flushed under Blaine’s stare. The combination of pink and pale skin made Kurt’s eyes look startlingly, beautifully sky-blue. 

_Like I’ve never seen the sky before…_ floated through his mind, and okay, why was Kurt evoking lyrics from love songs (especially _Come What May_ which was the song Blaine sang in all his fantasy weddings to all his fantasy grooms)? That was definitely new - at least ever since Blaine had met real-life Kurt as opposed to fantasy New-Directions-video Kurt. They stood for a second, smiling at each other, then Kurt glanced down at himself and startled as if he’d forgotten he was dressed in very tight hose and a very sheer, damp shirt. ‘Oh, um, I should go and change…’ 

‘Of course. I’m sorry to interrupt your rehearsal. We wouldn’t have come if we’d known that…’

‘If you’d known I would be here. You said.’ Kurt finished for him gently.

Blaine looked at the floor, embarrassed. 

‘It’s okay, I understand. Like I say, I’m not scheduled to be here. But I can’t really practice swinging a sword around in my apartment, because, you know, vintage furniture and all. Plus my roommate is actually quite attached to her extremities, so…’

‘Well I’m sorry to interrupt, anyway. But you looked really good, from what I saw. I mean, _it_ did. The routine did. It looked really good,’ _and oh god why was he still talking and what was with the stuttering all of a sudden?_ It had to be because he’d been such a colossal idiot in the past where Kurt was concerned, and he owed him a huge apology, and he was just feeling awkward about it. Luckily Kurt didn’t seem to notice. 

‘Thank you.’ Another one of those lovely blushes. There was an awkward pause.

‘Look, Blaine, I need to go get changed, but – don’t go anywhere, okay? Please? I’ll be right back.’ Kurt held out his hands as if he was going to grasp Blaine by the elbows, but then thought better of it and gave a pleading smile instead before ducking off backstage somewhere.

Blaine stood for a minute trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Somehow he was standing onstage at a Broadway theatre, and Kurt was here, being disarmingly sweet and knee-weakeningly sexy, and the whole world was basically upside down and back to front. Maybe this was all some sort of elaborate dream. 

‘Blaine? Who was that?’ Cooper’s voice floated out from the wings.

‘Uh. That was Kurt.’ 

‘Kurt Hummel?’

‘The very same.’ He said weakly.

‘I thought you guys didn’t like each other?’

‘We don’t.’ Blaine wasn’t really sure. He wasn’t sure of anything at all. He suddenly felt young and confused and totally overwhelmed. He sucked in a deep breath and span on his heel. ‘We need to go, Coop!’

‘Right now?’

‘Yes, please, immediately if not sooner!’ He strode in the direction of the door. He felt hot and flustered, and he just wanted to be out.

‘Of course, if you want, Squirt. Just let me track down Maria and Katie.’ Cooper’s voice followed after him, filled with worry. 

It took them a few minutes to find the girls in one of the rooms backstage with Elliot, looking at some of the costumes. 

‘Ladies, time to leave!’ Cooper said cheerfully. 

Katie’s face crumpled into a pout. ‘But Daddy, this is so awesome! Can’t we stay just a little bit longer? Please?’

Cooper winced. ‘I’m sorry baby, but maybe we can come back again sometime.’

‘You’re leaving? You don’t have to leave.’ Blaine startled at the sound of Kurt’s voice and turned to find him, gorgeous in green skinny jeans and patterned button down with a linen vest, hair damp around his hairline. 

He shook his head. ‘I think we should, Kurt.’

Disappointment flickered over Kurt’s face. ‘But I haven’t been introduced to your friends, yet.’ He sounded nervous, hopeful. 

‘Oh.’ Blaine was surprised. Kurt had never wanted anything to do with any of his friends before. ‘This is my brother, Cooper,’ he paused while Kurt shook Cooper’s hand, ‘and his wife, Maria. And this beautiful bundle of mischief right here is my niece Katie.’ He grabbed Katie’s hand and twirled her under his arm until she was in front of Kurt. 

‘Charmed to meet you, Miss Katie.’ Kurt took her hand and lightly kissed the back of it, to Katie’s delight. 

‘Cooper is an actor and a voice-over artist. He and Maria are moving from California back to Lima because Maria is going to teach at the elementary school in Lima Heights Adjacent.’ He peeked over at Kurt slyly, sure that the mention of Lima Heights Adjacent would bring Kurt’s inner snob back out to play.

To his astonishment Kurt grinned widely at Cooper. ‘Oh my god, you did the Free Credit Rating Today commercial! I loved that commercial, it was the ringtone on my phone for the longest time!’

Cooper beamed. ‘It’s good to know the ripples of my success are felt as far and wide as the big smoke!’

Blaine rolled his eyes in faked exasperation. ‘Oh no,’ he groaned, ‘he’ll be completely insufferable now!’

‘Shut up, Squirt, you’re just jealous of my fame, fortune and fabulous good looks!’

‘Yes, that’s what it is. It’s not the fact that you’re an obnoxious know-it-all who still lists ‘meaningful pointing’ under the special skills section of your resume.’ Blaine said drily.

Cooper moved to shove him playfully, until Maria intervened. ‘Guys, you are not actually in kindergarten, though sometimes I think you should be. May I remind you we are in polite company and you are supposed to be adult role models!’ Both boys looked abashed. Maria rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, brothers! Do you have any siblings, Mr…’

‘Kurt. Kurt Hummel. Um, no. No brothers. No, uh, family at all, actually.’ He lifted his shoulders as if in apology, and Blaine suddenly realised how alone Kurt really was, and had to hold himself back from crushing Kurt to his chest in a hug. He toed at the floor instead, wondering what the hell had gotten into him today.

‘I’m sorry.’ Maria said, softly. Then she gasped, ‘Wait, you’re Kurt Hummel as in star-of-the-show Kurt Hummel?’

Kurt smiled back shyly. ‘That’s me.’

She shot a curious glance at Blaine who continued to be very interested in something on the floor. 

‘Are you seeing the show later?’ Kurt’s gaze flickered over to Blaine and back.

‘Uh, no. We couldn’t really, um…’ Maria made a vague gesture with her hands, not wanting to say they couldn’t afford tickets.

Blaine opened his mouth to rescue her when Kurt offered up, ‘It can be hard to get tickets on short notice.’ His face was soft with understanding. ‘I can usually swing some, though, if you wanted to come?’

‘Really? Mommy can we, please? Abby and Aimee will totally die when I tell then we saw a show on Broadway!’ Katie squealed, making Kurt laugh.

‘Oh thank you, but we couldn’t…’ Blaine demurred, not wanting Kurt’s pity, or obligation.

‘No it’s totally fine, tickets for friends and family are part of the perks of the job. I don’t get to use mine very often, it would be wonderful for me to have familiar faces in the crowd. Plus I hear you’re celebrating a special someone’s birthday…’ Kurt bit his lip, waiting. 

‘I don’t know…’ Blaine looked up to find four pairs of begging eyes aimed at him and sighed in defeated amusement. ‘Okay. Thank you so much, Kurt. I don’t know what to say.’ Katie shrieked and flung her arms around Blaine and then Kurt. 

Kurt shook his head. ‘Really, it’s no problem. I’ll leave them at the box office for you.’

They chatted together for a little longer until Cooper’s rumbling stomach drowned out the conversation, and Kurt led them through the maze of backstage rooms and corridors towards the lobby. Maria drew Blaine back for a moment. ‘Is this Ohio Kurt? Awful, anti-social, unspeakably rude Kurt?’

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was having an animated conversation with Cooper, making him roar with laughter. ‘Yeah. I don't know what's going on. He’s like a different person, M. I have no idea what’s happened to him.’

Maria smiled softly. ‘Really? No idea at all?’

Blaine frowned in confusion. ‘No.’

Maria laughed and took his hand, pulling him to join the others as they arrived in the lobby where they stopped short and groaned in unison as they took in the driving rain that had started outside. The battle-ship gray skies suggested it wasn’t about to stop any time soon.

‘I take it you didn’t come prepared for monsoon season in NYC?’ Kurt asked, laughing as he slung a beautiful designer (and thoroughly waterproof, Blaine noted ruefully) coat over his shoulders and produced a fold-out umbrella from his messenger bag.

‘We really didn’t.’ Maria murmured, eyes wide.

‘We could get a cab?’ Cooper suggested, looking over at his wife. Blaine knew how tight their budget already was and his brow furrowed. He jumped when Kurt's hand grazed his shoulder lightly. 

‘That black sedan out there…’ Kurt pointed to the curb outside where a black town car waited, engine purring, ‘that’s your ride.’

‘What?’ Blaine’s eyes widened.

‘That’s my car. Well the theatre lay it on for me. I hardly ever use it because I like walking and I can always use the cardio. My weather app predicted the biblical rain you see before you, and since you have the little one…’ he nodded at Katie, ‘I thought I’d call it for you, to take you back to your hotel. If you want it. I hope that’s alright?’ Kurt worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘Kurt, that’s…’ Blaine was speechless. 

‘Don’t you need it? You’ll get completely soaked!’ Maria protested.

‘Nah.’ Kurt flashed an impish grin. ‘I’m spritely. I’ll dodge the raindrops.’ He opened his umbrella into the rain and stepped out after it. 

‘Kurt...’ Blaine didn’t know what to say in the face of such a lavish, thoughtful gesture. Kurt sighed and grabbed Katie’s hand, whisking her across the sidewalk and into the waiting car. She lowered the window and shouted ‘Mom! There’s a _TV_ in here!’ before disappearing back inside. 

Maria laughed helplessly as Kurt escorted her across the sidewalk under the safety of his umbrella. ‘Thank you!’ 

Cooper followed, grabbing Kurt’s face and giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek before gleefully jumping into the car, making Kurt laugh and turn even pinker.

Finally Kurt turned to Blaine and held the umbrella out slightly. Blaine hesitated. ‘Kurt, this is so nice of you. I just feel bad…’

‘Take the car, Blaine. You have ladyfolk accompanying you, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.’ He winked at Blaine, who blushed deeply and allowed himself to be chaperoned into the car. Kurt leaned in slightly towards the open window. ‘Okay?’

 _‘So_ okay! There are _two_ TVs in here!’ Cooper was bouncing up and down with excitement.

Kurt laughed. ‘Well just tell Paul where you want to go and he’ll get you there. He’s the best driver in all of New York City.’ He leaned in further and said in a loud stage whisper, ‘If I were you, I’d get him to go the scenic route via Times Square.’

‘I… Thank you, Kurt. For everything. The car, the show tickets. This will make Katie’s trip. And Cooper’s life.’ Blaine blinked up at Kurt, who looked like a perfect marble carving in the diffuse light filtering through the umbrella, and was seized by a sudden desire not to be apart from him just yet. ‘We can’t drop you somewhere?’ He tried, hopefully.

‘Oh no, I’m fine. You guys enjoy the ride. And the show, I hope.’ Kurt tucked his card into Blaine’s hand, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of Blaine’s inner wrist, sending something tingly and electric right up Blaine's arm. ‘In case there’s any issues with the tickets.’ He turned to walk briskly down the sidewalk, and damn if he wasn’t still beautiful, even in a mackintosh in the pouring rain. He paused, jogging backwards for a moment, calling out, ‘It’s good to see you, Blaine!’, before turning back and forging into the crowd.

Blaine watched him disappear down the street, his form blurring into swirling, shapeless colors through the raindrops on the car window. He felt a weird pang of some bittersweet emotion in his chest. He sort of… missed Kurt, he realised, surprised at himself. 

Paul was as good as Kurt’s word, taking them through Times Square, playing music to distract them from the traffic and smiling indulgently as Katie stuck her head out of the window to take pictures. It was spectacular even in the rain. 

When the Andersons arrived back at their hotel they found a selection of the dishes from the room service menu waiting for them, still hot and smelling incredible. When Cooper called down to ask reception he was told it had been ordered and paid for by phone a half hour before. Blaine stared at it in disbelief. It couldn't have been... but then, no-one else knew they were here, so it _had_ to be...

Blaine pulled out his phone, took a picture of the food and sent it to the cell number on Kurt’s card, along with a message. 

From Blaine  
16.07  
**Kurt!! Did you do all this for us? – Blaine**

From Kurt  
16.08  
_I was worried Cooper’s stomach would drown me out during the show tonight. I can’t be upstaged at my gig like that, Blaine._

From Blaine  
16.09  
**This is too much, Kurt. But thank you, so much.**

From Kurt  
16.10  
_I don’t know, his stomach was *really* loud. I wanted to be sure there was enough food to shut it up. (You’re very welcome)_

From Blaine  
16.25  
**Someone just arrived with an entire cheesecake for us. Oh my god, Kurt.**

From Kurt  
16.27  
_You have to have New York cheesecake while you’re here. It’s a rite of passage. I’m just doing my bit for the tourist industry._

From Blaine  
16.28  
**I don’t know how to thank you, Kurt.**

From Kurt  
16.30  
_Just enjoy the show :)_

From Kurt  
16.30  
_Also. Would you all like to come to lunch at my place tomorrow? My roommate Rachel would really like to meet you all. You can say no. No wrong answer :)_

From Blaine  
16.34  
**Of course. To both of your texts. ;)**

From Kurt  
16.36  
_Ok, good. I’ll ask Paul to be at your hotel at 11? Is that too early? I gotta run, I need to eat before I go to the theatre._

From Blaine  
16.38  
**That’s perfect. Kurt – thank you so much for everything. Really.**

They had dinner sitting cross legged on the double beds in Cooper’s hotel room, gossiping and giggling together, before they split up to get ready for the show. The rain from earlier had cleared and the night sky was cold and clear. Blaine seemed to be the only one surprised to find Paul waiting to pick them up in the black Sedan. 

Katie and Cooper talked non-stop all the way, exclaiming over how pretty the city was at night, how glamorous the people waiting at the theatre were, how good the view was from their seats. 

Blaine stayed fairly quiet. He couldn’t believe how different New York Kurt seemed to be from Ohio Kurt. This Kurt had some of the sweet vulnerability that Blaine had found so attractive in the old Glee club videos. This Kurt was kind and thoughtful… a gentleman. And this Kurt was kicking ass as Peter Pan, and there was the white shirt again which Blaine was now having some wholly ungentlemanly thoughts about. He tamped them down firmly, trying hard to watch the whole show but finding it impossible not to just watch Kurt’s face. He was a star, no question. He was also, it seemed, secretly a very nice guy who had gone above and beyond to make their trip special. He shook his head slightly as he rested his chin on his own steepled fingers, watching as Kurt danced through the air alongside Wendy, a backdrop of stars sparkling behind them. Who would ever have thought.


	20. Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your lovely feedback!
> 
> These chapters are based (loosely) on the BBC adaptation rather than the book, because it means I can include a lot more awkward, stumbly flirting and I love that.

As Cooper knocked on the door to Kurt’s apartment the next morning, Blaine tried to calm the nerves that were fluttering anxiously in his stomach. He’d felt on edge and restless all night and had slept badly, and he was sure he looked like hell. His hands were shaking so much he’d barely been able to tie his bow-tie. He couldn’t help but groan at his own reflection in the mirror. Of _course_ he would be developing a crush on Kurt Hummel _after_ he’d already shot the guy down in flames. Because that wasn’t massively inconvenient or anything. 

It would be fine, he told himself, as they waited for Kurt to come to the door. It would be totally fine. It was just lunch. He ate lunch every day. Except it was lunch with Kurt. Kurt who was sweet and thoughtful and talented and, okay, gorgeous… 

His mind held that thought as Kurt appeared, delicious in a soft-looking, pale green, t shirt and artfully distressed jeans. As they all congratulated Kurt on how fantastic the show had been the night before, Blaine wondered how he managed to style his hair to look perfect but still so touchable, and then caught himself because he really shouldn’t just be standing in the hallway fantasising about running his hands through Kurt’s hair like some sort of weirdo.

He realised Kurt had said something to him and he hadn’t heard what it was. There was a brief moment of awkwardness where he stared at Kurt blankly, but he was thankfully saved by Katie taking off down the hallway, shrieking with glee. ‘Kurt lives in a magazine, Mommy!’

Maria laughed and turned to Kurt. ‘I’m sorry, she’s just excited. Your apartment is so different to what she’s used to. It’s beautiful.’ 

Kurt smiled at Maria. ‘No worries.’ He ran a hand through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, looking around the large, airy third floor apartment. ‘We were, actually. In a magazine, I mean. We bought the place years ago and renovated it ourselves. It was awful when we moved in. No heat, terrible water pressure, _cockroaches!’_ His eyes went big and round and Blaine couldn’t help but laugh. ‘It’s been a labor of love.’

‘Well it’s certainly paid off!’ Cooper walked into the open plan living space with a low whistle of admiration. 

Kurt ushered them in, and Blaine pressed the yellow roses he’d bought that morning into his hands. ‘For the show,’ he said. ‘It was wonderful, Kurt. Really.’ He wondered now if he should have bought something more ostentatious – Kurt must get flowers all the time, and these were such a simple offering. But something about the yellow roses glowing in the early morning sunlight had spoken to him, and Kurt seemed to like them too, running his fingertips over the velvety petals. Kurt murmured his thanks fervently, pulling Blaine in for a brief, tentative hug. Blaine thought his chest might explode his heart was beating so hard.

‘Mom, a piano! Can I look at it, Kurt? Please?’ At Kurt’s nod Katie ran to sit at the piano, picking out the notes for Chopsticks.

Kurt gestured for Cooper, Maria and Blaine to sit on the large chesterfields arranged around a fireplace that Blaine imagined must be heaven in the winter. ‘Please, make yourselves at home.’

Blaine glanced around, admiring the apartment, noticing the beautiful details; an inlaid apothecary chest set off to the side, a vintage suitcase positioned as a side table, the framed black and white posters of Broadway plays hung on the exposed brick walls, and vases of fresh flowers artfully dotted around the place. It was chic and quirky, and Blaine loved it.

‘When we first came to the city we lived in this draughty old loft in Bushwick. It was totally open, we had curtains instead of walls.’ A petite girl, all in black, chimed in as she appeared from one of the bedrooms. Blaine recognised her as Rachel Berry, the girl who had famously won the role of Fanny Brice several years before. Her eyes were big and dark under thick bangs, and she tucked herself into Kurt’s side as if she needed the reassurance of his physical touch. ‘We decided after a couple of years of constantly wearing earplugs that we most definitely needed bedroom walls!’

‘Thank you, Rachel!’ Kurt hissed, his face bright red.

‘You complained for years about my five a.m. vocal exercises!’ Rachel protested. ‘You said it was hard for you to appreciate my talent when you were so tired all you wanted to do was shove a sock in my mouth!’

‘Honey, I always want to shove a sock in your mouth, tired or not.’ Kurt said affectionately, kissing the top of her head. Blaine had to laugh at Rachel’s annoyed huff. 

‘Oh is this Blaine?’ She darted forward and pulled him into a hug. ‘I’m so excited to meet you!’

‘You too. I’ve been hearing about you and your incredible voice since I was in the New Directions in high school.’ Blaine hugged her back with a smile. 

She beamed and perched on the coffee table, launching into a New Directions story, talking at a hundred miles an hour. 

Kurt excused himself to grab a tray with a pot of coffee and mugs, cream and sugar, and a tall glass of juice for Katie, then he slipped back to the kitchen to finish making lunch. 

Once Rachel was deep in conversation with Maria, and Cooper was helping Katie play ‘twinkle twinkle’ on the piano, Blaine followed Kurt to the kitchen, stopping short by the door when he heard that Kurt was singing softly to himself as he gracefully moved around the stainless steel appliances, raw wood countertops and flawless copper pans. 

‘Blackbird singing in the dead of night…’

It was one thing to hear Kurt sing on an old video, another to hear him sing onstage and command an audience. 

‘Take these broken wings and learn to fly…’

But this… This was soft, and raw, and heartfelt, and Blaine couldn’t even move he was so floored. 

‘All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…’

This was Kurt putting his whole self out there, through his voice, no front, no show. Blaine couldn’t speak, could barely breathe; all he could do was watch Kurt, placing bell peppers onto a mesh sheet placed on top of a gas burner, singing like it was all for him even though he didn’t know Blaine was there. He felt like all the breath had been knocked out of his body. 

‘Blaine?’ Kurt looked up, and Blaine was shocked to see him blinking back tears.

‘Hey. I just wondered if you needed help?’ Blaine kept his voice gentle, not mentioning the tears. They weren’t even all that close, he realised, despite all the secrets they knew about each other. 

Kurt nodded, recovering quickly. ‘Um, sure. Could you take over roasting these? Just turn them ‘til they’re black and then put them in that bag there. I’ll peel them in a little bit. Thanks.’

‘Okay. I’ll do my best.’ Blaine gave a mock salute and grabbed the tongs. ‘That smells delicious.’ He gestured to the fragrant mixture Kurt had started spooning into a serving bowl.

'Fried cauliflower with chilli, pine nuts, some capers...' Kurt preened a little but a bashful blush spread over his cheeks. Blaine couldn’t stop looking at how pretty it was. 'Want to try?'

Blaine nodded and accepted the spoonful Kurt offered him, trying to split his attention between Kurt and the peppers sizzling on the stove. It wouldn’t do to set the lunch on fire after Kurt had been so kind to them. 'Kurt, that is seriously good.'

‘Thanks. I hope so. Rachel is vegan so I’ve grown to be resourceful in my cooking. I've got chicken kabobs broiling because you and Cooper are growing boys, and I thought it was a safe bet for Katie, but everything else is Rachel-friendly. I am a master of mezze!’ He put a cover on the dish of cauliflower with a flourish, and pulled a glazed pottery bowl out of the fridge. 

Blaine gasped. ‘Oh my god is that hummus? Did you make that?’

Kurt nodded. ‘I don’t make it often because I’m super pedantic about it and have to take the skins off the chickpeas and everything, so it’s sort of fiddly, but it’s worth it for the…’ Kurt trailed off mid-sentence as Blaine dipped a finger into the bowl and scooped out some hummus, popping it into his mouth with a happy sigh.

‘Holy shit. Kurt, that’s amazing. Oh, sorry!’ Blaine blushed. ‘That was really rude. I don’t usually do that. Put my hands in food, I mean. But I absolutely love hummus and that is unbelievable.’

Kurt cleared his throat and blinked a few times. ‘No, that’s fine. That’s… don’t worry about it, really. I’m glad you like it.’

‘Like it? Kurt, I would marry that hummus tomorrow if I could get a license in New York.’ Blaine frowned. ‘Or anywhere, actually. Because marrying hummus is not a thing, obviously. What? Do I have some on my face?’ He touched his cheek self-consciously as he realised Kurt was staring at him.

‘Oh. Um, no. I just haven’t heard you swear before.’

Blaine winced. ‘Ah. I’m so sorry. You invited us over and I’ve already put my hands in the food and cursed. I promise I’m usually much better house-trained than this.’

Kurt put a hand on his shoulder, laughing. ‘It’s really fine, Blaine. Please stop apologising. I’m not a nun, I promise. I’ve lived in New York for years, I hear worse language than that on the subway before breakfast. Hell, I _use_ worse language than that on the subway before breakfast. You might need to rescue that pepper, by the way, before it turns to dust.’

Blaine turned to see the pepper flaming gently. ‘Oh, shoot. I got it.’ He rescued it just in time and put the next one on the stove. He paid careful attention to this one, sneaking glances at Kurt putting together a Greek salad with beautiful, ripe tomatoes and a vegan feta cheese that Kurt said took him years to find. It was nice, cooking with him. Comfortable and domestic, even in this grand apartment with the fancy kitchen, Kurt invitingly casual and barefoot in his jeans. Kurt moved around him to grab the fresh mint, placing a hand fleetingly on the small of Blaine’s back as he did so, murmuring a soft apology, leaving the scent of light, fresh cologne behind him. 

This easy closeness with a beautiful man was everything Blaine had wanted, all his life. Not to mention the beautiful apartment in the beautiful city, with beautiful Broadway within touching distance. The sort of intimacy that Thad and Eli had, but with an added lightning bolt. And he’d had, like, six lightning bolts in the last twenty-four hours and they’d all been because of Kurt. His breath caught in his throat as he suddenly realised that this could have been his life right now, if he hadn’t been so blind, so stupid.

He felt weak at the knees and grabbed at the kitchen counter for support. ‘Are you okay?’ Kurt voice rose in concern.

‘Yeah,’ Blaine managed weakly. ‘Just… hot. Or tired, maybe.’

Kurt nodded, his face worried. ‘You should sit down, drink something. It’ll be time to eat soon, that might help.’

‘No, I’m okay, I want to help, really…’ He grasped at Kurt’s forearm, suddenly panicked at the thought that Kurt might send him away, even if he was only going to be in the next room.

Kurt looked at him for a long moment, concern filling his eyes. ‘Alright, of course. But let me get you some water, okay?’

‘Thank you.’ Blaine smiled after him, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was in so much trouble. 

*

Kurt looked over at Blaine, sitting at his table, eating food he'd cooked, smiling and chatting with Rachel as if they'd all been friends for years, and wondered if this was what having an out of body experience felt like. It had taken him a while to come to terms with the fact that Blaine wanted nothing to do with him. He had half hoped for a response to the letter, but none came. It was fair, he supposed, that he himself should go through exactly what he'd inadvertently put Sam through. He'd taken his punishment without complaint, but with a lot of heart-ache. Maybe he'd somehow managed to accrue some good karma along the way, because it seemed almost miraculous to run into Blaine again - and not just run into him, but have him be friendly and responsive, to feel the full warmth of his smile (which was just as dazzling as ever) in a way he never had before. It felt like he'd been given an opportunity to make amends, and he didn't intend to waste it.

Kurt felt like lunch was going well. He hoped so, anyway – it had already been proven that he couldn’t really trust his instincts where Blaine was concerned. Blaine assured him that the food tasted every bit as delicious as it had smelled, and Kurt didn’t think he was just being polite based on his reaction to the hummus. The memory of Blaine’s eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as he'd tasted it made heat pool in Kurt’s cheeks and belly, so he re-doubled his efforts to talk to Blaine’s family to try and distract himself. 

Katie was a sweetheart, happily drawing pictures for Kurt of the things she'd liked best about the show. Kurt was going to pin them up in his dressing room so he saw them every day before he went on stage. Cooper was goofy and hilarious, and clearly the two brothers adored each other despite their sibling banter. Kurt swallowed down the lump in his throat. He would have liked to have had a brother. He was a little envious of Blaine’s family, complicated and loving in equal measure. It reminded him of his mom and dad's playful teasing, of his mom singing in their kitchen as she cooked his dad's favourite things. Kurt still sang her favourite song unconsciously, when he cooked. Thinking about Blaine with his family, missing his own family, having Blaine here in his own space... It was a lot. He'd had a bit of an emotional moment in the kitchen before Blaine came in, but if Blaine had noticed he had very chivalrously decided not to draw attention to it. 

Blaine was mostly being kept busy by Rachel talking at him faster than any human ever had before, but Kurt could have sworn that sometimes he felt his eyes on him… Maybe not. He thought Blaine had warmed towards him, but Blaine had always had lovely manners. He was probably just being polite. He bit back a sigh. Blaine was dapper and gorgeous, like always, and completely unattainable – like always – and Kurt had to keep reminding himself of that. Blaine had made it completely clear that he had no feelings for Kurt at all, and never could. He hoped that he was at least managing to raise himself in Blaine’s estimations enough to make being friends possible. 

He excused himself from the table when the intercom buzzed, his heart sinking a little when he realised Chandler was waiting at their door. He had hoped to spend this time just with Blaine and his family, all getting to know each other better. Oh well. 

‘Hi, Chan.’ He reached out for Chandler’s coat, hanging it on the curved copper coat rack by the door. ‘How was the date last night?’

Chandler eyed him with disgust. ‘Awful.’

‘Really? That surprises me. Nate’s such a nice guy.’ Kurt shepherded Chandler towards the table.

‘He’s very nice, I’m sure. Nice, anodyne, unremarkable... _boring._ You know me, Kurt.’ Chandler turned to him, brushing a hand down his shoulder onto his chest flirtatiously. ‘I’m looking for someone extraordinary.’

‘Well good luck searching.’ Kurt removed Chandler’s hand from his chest, gently but firmly. ‘I think you should give Nate another chance.’

Chandler scoffed. ‘If he’s so nice maybe _you_ should date him.’

Kurt shook his head, smiling. ‘No, I’m not really looking to date right now, I told you that.’

Chandler raised his eyebrows. ‘Well we’ll see just how long you manage to keep away from the…’ he turned to the table finally, stopping short when he caught sight of Blaine watching them curiously, ‘boys.’ 

‘Hi, Chandler, good to see you again.’ Blaine rose and held out his hand, which Chandler took delicately and with an upturned nose. Kurt cringed. Is this how he had behaved around Blaine? It was a miracle Blaine was even talking to him at all. He made a silent promise to himself to do his best never to come off that way again, no matter how awkward or out of place he felt. Blaine had made him want to do better than that. Even if all he could manage were shy smiles and awkward small talk it had to be better than behaving like Chandler was right now.

‘This is my brother Cooper, my sister-in-law Maria, and my niece Katie.’ Blaine sat down, gestured down the table.

Kurt got a chair for Chandler and picked up the wine to top up everyone’s glasses.

‘Charmed, I’m sure.’ Chandler’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, until his eyes landed on Cooper and he openly gawked. 

Kurt laughed. ‘Yeah, Blaine neglected to mention that his brother is the best looking man in America, or maybe we’d have become friends sooner.’ He nudged Blaine’s shoulder playfully with his own as he filled his glass, before noticing how Blaine’s jaw was suddenly clenched with tension. Chandler must be reminding him of how badly Kurt had behaved in Ohio. Kurt’s heart sank along with his hopes for a friendship with Blaine. 

‘Chan, do you want some food?’ He gestured to the colourful dishes strewn down the long table. 

‘No thanks,’ Chandler said sourly, watching Blaine scoop up the last of his hummus with a piece of pitta bread and devour it with gusto. ‘Have to watch my figure. Hummus goes straight to my ass.’

Kurt suppressed the urge to smack the back of Chandler’s head in favour of offering Blaine more food. If enthusiastic hummus consumption led to an ass like Blaine’s, then Kurt was going to make sure he made it for Blaine as often as he could, even if he was only allowed to admire said ass from afar. Blaine’s gaze flicked up and met Kurt’s, and it seemed like they were both trying not to laugh. It was sort of nice… intimate. Maybe all was not lost. He poured Chandler a glass of wine and topped up his own mineral water, chewing at his bottom lip. All he could do was keep being himself, and hope it was enough. 

He tuned back in to what Rachel was saying, just in time to catch ‘So Blaine, Kurt says you’re really talented. Will you play something for us?’ Her eyes were dark and eager.

‘Oh…’ Blaine looked over at Kurt in surprise. ‘That’s far too kind. I’m alright, not good enough to hold my own in a room full of Broadway talent though!’ 

‘Oh come on, don’t be modest. There’s no room for modesty here, you have to believe in yourself or our over-inflated egos will crush you!’ Kurt teased.

‘Kurt said he’s never enjoyed hearing anyone play so much,’ Rachel said earnestly. 

Blaine’s eyes widened. ‘Did he?’ He caught Kurt’s eye for a second, then ducked his head bashfully, but Kurt wasn’t sure if it was in response to Kurt’s compliment or Chandler’s loud, irritated huff. How had it taken him so long to realise that Chandler was basically an overgrown toddler?

Rachel nodded. ‘I’m hoping I might finally have met my match in a duet partner!’

 _‘Hey!’_ Kurt interjected. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m more than a match for you Miss Midnight Madness _runner up.’_

Rachel narrowed her eyes. ‘You fight me for the girl parts, Kurt.’

‘And I will continue to fight you for them, and win, until the day I die.’ Kurt shrugged, blowing her a kiss.

‘Blainey, you’d better play something before they get their purses out and start hitting each other!’ Cooper stage-whispered over the table.

‘Yeah, Uncle Blaine, play something!’ Katie chimed in, bouncing in her seat.

Blaine, who had been watching Kurt and Rachel’s exchange with something like amusement, looked down at his empty plate and laughed. ‘Okay, okay,’ he conceded, shaking his head at Cooper and Rachel’s whoops of triumph. 

They all shifted back into the living room where Blaine got settled at the piano. ‘It really is a beautiful instrument,’ he said, stroking his hands over it reverently, and Kurt found himself jealous of a piano for the first time in his life. 

In the end Blaine sang a slow version of _Teenage Dream_ that he’d arranged himself. It was sweet and relaxed, and just right for the after-lunch lull. He was still one of the best performers Kurt had seen. His practised fingers moved over the keys with ease, he sang with tenderness and feeling, and he didn’t look at Kurt at all. Not once. A little kernel of disappointment settled deep in Kurt’s stomach. He fought to keep it from showing on his face as he applauded with everyone else once Blaine finished.

‘My turn!’ Rachel trilled brightly, jumping up and flipping her hair off her shoulders. 

‘Yeah, take turns, Blaine!’ Chandler called out, smirking. ‘Hasn’t Sebastian taught you it’s the polite thing to do?’ He cackled lasciviously, missing the way Rachel swayed on her feet and clutched at the edge of the piano, her face ashen.

Kurt started to rise up to rescue her, but Blaine was already on his feet, an arm around her waist. ‘Woah there, did you trip? I got you. Hey, why don’t I play and you can sing?’ He helped her sit next to him on the piano bench and Kurt could see Rachel calming down as they talked through a couple of song options, giggling together like old friends. He was overwhelmed with relief for Rachel, and gratitude towards this boy who kept saving him without even meaning to.

Rachel stood to sing _Make You Feel My Love_. She was, as always, incredible, but Kurt hardly noticed her. He couldn’t take his eyes off Blaine, hoping for the chance to convey his thanks, silently, for his discretion.

Just as he thought the whole song was going to go by without Blaine glancing his way, again, Blaine lifted his gaze from the piano, still playing, and looked deliberately and directly at Kurt. His eyes were dark under his thick lashes, and heavy with some unidentifiable emotion that made Kurt's insides turn liquid. Kurt met his gaze, not daring to look away or even breathe in case it broke the moment. He wondered if this was the first time Blaine had ever really looked at him before. He was sure that the noise of his heart pounding against his rib cage must be drowning out the sound of Rachel’s voice, and god if it was this intense just looking at Blaine then Kurt couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to stroke the backs of his fingers over his cheek, or run a thumb over his lips. 

Neither boy moved or looked away, they just stared at each other, transfixed, for several long moments before Chandler cleared his throat meaningfully, and Blaine’s gaze flicked back down to the piano, his thick eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. Kurt felt light-headed – maybe from the intensity, or maybe from lack of oxygen, he really didn’t care. All he knew is that he was sure, for the first time, that he and Blaine had shared a moment. Blaine looked up at him again – just a fleeting glance this time, but a smile was playing around the edges of his mouth, and Kurt was sure he ducked his head back down to the piano to hide it. 

And so he dared to hope. 

*

‘Thank you so much for lunch, Kurt. And everything. It was lovely.’ Maria, Cooper and Katie had already said their goodbyes and were heading down the hall, bearing left-over honey-yogurt parfait that Cooper swore was the best thing he'd ever put in his mouth, which gave Chandler an embarrassing coughing fit that secretly made Blaine very happy. Blaine had hung back for a minute with Kurt in the doorway of the apartment, and suddenly, now it was just the two of them, the air had turned heavy and seemed to thrum between them.

‘No, thank you for coming. I really like your family. If you guys are in New York again make sure you come by?’ Kurt’s arms were folded around himself, and he looked young and uncertain. He seemed to be hanging back, trying to take his cues from Blaine, and Blaine could hardly blame him after he'd already rejected him so harshly once before.

‘We will. I promise.’ Blaine made sure to meet Kurt’s eyes reassuringly. ‘We fly back the day after tomorrow, so. Maybe we’ll run into each other before we leave?’

Kurt’s eyes widened. ‘Um, yeah. Maybe.’

Blaine turned to leave, and then on impulse turned back. Kurt stayed perfectly, utterly still as Blaine went up on his tiptoes to brush the softest of kisses to his cheek. ‘Well, you have my number.' He smiled. 'And I have yours. Bye, Kurt.’

‘Bye…’ 

Blaine made it right to the end of the corridor before he let himself turn around, catching only the briefest glimpse of Kurt’s frame, still frozen in the doorway.

He waited until the elevator doors had closed before he allowed his face to break out into the huge, goofy grin he’d been fighting all afternoon.


	21. Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your lovely comments! x

The elevator doors opened to Cooper standing in the lobby, arms crossed over his chest, hip cocked, and a huge, knowing, annoying smile on his face.

‘So you and Kurt don’t like each other?’ 

Blaine sighed and stepped out of the elevator. ‘Shut up, Coop.’

Cooper smirked. ‘He’s a terrible person and you don’t get on at all, right?’

 _‘You’re_ a terrible person, Coop.’

‘Blaine, if he’s at all interested, you should marry him immediately. Because that apartment? Wow.’ They started to cross the lobby towards the door.

Cooper was joking, Blaine knew, but he wasn’t wrong about the apartment. Even the lobby was marble tile and polished wood and sparkly glass, and it was very, very pretty. Blaine bit back another sigh, this time aimed at himself.

They pushed through the doors out onto the sidewalk, where Maria and Katie were waiting. Since they were already in Lower Manhattan they had decided to go to the Brooklyn Bridge. Kurt had offered them the use of the car again, but they had all thought they could use a walk after all the food. Oh god, the _food._ Because of _course_ Blaine had rejected a man who could cook like that. 

The memory of their fight all those weeks ago dampened Blaine’s spirits a little. ‘Well don’t get your hopes up, because he’s not. Interested, I mean.’ 

Cooper grabbed his elbow, making him skid to a stop, nearly bumping into a street sign. ‘Wait, are you serious?’

Blaine shrugged. ‘I’m serious that I totally embarrassed myself. I nearly set his kitchen on fire, Coop.’ _And then the rambling on about marrying hummus that had Kurt staring at him like he’d landed from outer space and oh god, how humiliating…_ He cringed internally at what a fool he must have made of himself.

‘You guys nearly set something on fire, that’s for sure…’ Cooper fanned himself dramatically. He glanced over to make sure Katie was out of earshot before stage-whispering, ‘You were eye-fucking each other over the piano!’

‘Oh my god, shut up…’ Blaine muttered, blushing deeply and elbowing his brother in the ribs. If there was a chance of anything between him and Kurt then he certainly wasn’t going to be talking to Cooper about it first. He shot a glance back up towards the windows of Kurt’s apartment

‘Squirt, I thought you were going to hit me when he said I was the most beautiful man in America!’ Cooper shrieked with laughter and Blaine could cheerfully have throttled him. ‘If you could have eviscerated me with your eyes I’d be a smoking pile of ashes right now. But at least I’d still be smokin', ammiright?’ He punched Blaine playfully on the shoulder.

Blaine rolled his eyes. How did he wind up with such a dork for an older brother?

‘Come on, idiot.’ He grabbed Cooper’s arm and pulled him away, braving one last look up at Kurt’s window. Lunch had done nothing to dampen Blaine’s growing attraction. Which was a shame because he was fairly sure it had put paid to Kurt’s. 

'Look, you saw his apartment. You heard what he said about me. He clearly has impeccable taste, of course he's interested.' Cooper shrugged like it was a sure thing. Sometimes Blaine thought he'd do anything to have Cooper's sort of supreme confidence instead of faking it most of the time. 'You should invite him to come with us tomorrow. Let's take him somewhere to say thanks for the tickets and the meals.'

Blaine paused for a second. That actually wasn't the worst idea in the world. 'Yeah. Yeah, maybe.'

'Go on, little brother. Turn on that Anderson charm. We're _irresistible!'_ Cooper grinned and then jogged ahead to catch up to Maria and Katie, swinging Katie up onto his shoulders.

Blaine walked behind them for a minute trying to gather his thoughts. Cooper might be a huge idiot sometimes, but maybe he was right about Blaine making the next move. Blaine was still very unsure about where he stood with Kurt. He didn't want to risk what was potentially a lovely and unexpected friendship by making a nuisance of himself.

But then there had been that moment over the piano…

The memory of it made heat curl up his spine, and he fought the sudden, intense urge to run back up to Kurt’s apartment and kiss him breathless against one of the exposed brick walls. He wasn’t at all sure if his attentions would be welcome any more.

He badly wanted to see Kurt again before they left for Ohio. He wanted the chance to talk to him properly, to buy him coffee and thank him for his honesty and his generosity and his kindness. He wanted the chance to say sorry.

He couldn’t tell, when he’d said goodbye, if Kurt was going to contact him or not. The thought that it was possible he wouldn’t see Kurt again at all, if Kurt didn’t want to, made him feel dizzy. He grasped his phone in his pocket – his one connection to Kurt, now. Kurt had been brave so many times already. It was Blaine's turn to have courage.

*

Kurt had stood in the doorway for a long time, watching the closed elevator doors but not really seeing them. Eventually Chandler’s loud stream of sarcasm permeated his happy little Blaine-bubble and he sighed and shut the door, touching his fingertips to the cheek Blaine had kissed before he went to join Chandler and Rachel in the living room, collapsing onto the sofa next to Rachel. Blaine and Maria had insisted on helping clear up, so he had a little time to relax before he needed to leave for work.

Chandler’s long form was stretched out in an armchair, one leg crossed over the other, fingers drumming impatiently on his knee. ‘God, I’m glad they’ve finally gone. Talk about out-staying your welcome…’ he sniped.

‘Mmm, imagine that.’ Rachel said, checking her watch meaningfully, but as ever it was lost on Chandler. 

‘I thought Blaine was looking particularly…’ Chandler sniffed, _‘Ohioan_ today.’

Rachel blinked. ‘What does that even mean?’

‘I mean he’s just so obviously small fry from a small town. It’s sort of sad. His shoes have to be from at least three seasons ago, and did you see his shirt? Cobalt hasn’t been in since sometime last century.’ Chandler’s face twisted up unpleasantly.

Kurt felt irritation tense his jaw and shoulders, but he kept his lips firmly pressed together. He didn’t trust himself not to give away exactly how much he thought of Blaine.

‘Chandler,’ Rachel admonished, ‘don’t be so mean. I thought he was adorable. And he can _sing…’_ She sighed dreamily.

Chandler scoffed. ‘Isn’t it unfortunate though, how all the good genetics went to his brother. I mean how pissed would you be if your brother used up all the tall, dark and handsome genes and that face was all that was left?’

‘Chandler!’ Rachel sounded shocked now, Kurt vaguely fathomed through the rush of blood pounding in his ears. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans. Chandler was just jealous and trying to get a rise out of him. He wasn’t going to oblige. 

‘I’m serious! I never saw the appeal. He’s short, he’s not handsome, I bet his hair is insane in the mornings… And as for his eyes, which I have heard called pretty, in the past…’ Kurt could feel Chandler’s hot, angry gaze on him, and kept his own eyes resolutely focused on the loose thread on his knee, ‘I never saw anything especially nice about them. They’ve got this…’ Chandler made a dismissive hand gesture, ‘sharp, shrewish look which I don’t like at all. And he carries himself with this, like, air of superiority which is… ugh, I can’t stand it.’ 

Kurt was grateful for Rachel’s hand settling soothingly on his knee. He couldn’t believe Chandler’s audacity. For him to sit there and say that _Blaine_ was shrewish and superior was beyond ironic. And the more Chandler picked at Blaine, the more impossible it became to keep the irritation off his face. He was obviously not immune to the fact that Kurt really liked Blaine, and was determined to undermine it somehow, even though it was doing him no favors at all with Kurt. 

But Chandler had some cause to be angry, Kurt told himself, fighting to stay calm. After all, Kurt had inadvertently led him on. And angry people aren’t always wise. So Kurt held his tongue, but he couldn't control the death glare he was sending Chandler's way. Chandler looked positively gleeful at having finally provoked a reaction from Kurt, so he decided to poke the bear a little more. 

‘At one time, Kurt,’ he said slyly, ‘I recall you agreed with me that he was nothing special. Not special enough to tempt you, anyway.’ Kurt tensed further as his own words were thrown back at him, and Chandler smirked, running a finger around the rim of his water glass. ‘But after that he seemed to improve on you. I believe you almost found him attractive at one time…’

‘That’s true,’ Kurt replied through gritted teeth. He seriously regretted confiding in Chandler about that disastrous first meeting at Sugar’s party. ‘I did. But that was only when I first knew him.’

Chandler lit up with triumph, but quickly deflated as Kurt continued, ‘It’s been a long, long time now that I’ve considered him one of the most attractive men I’ve ever known. Probably _the_ most attractive.’

With that he stood and left the room, and Chandler was left to the hollow satisfaction of having forced Kurt to say what gave no-one any pain but himself.

Kurt banged through the door into his own room, and lay back on his bed, folding his arms behind his head. He took in a deep breath through his nose, then let it out through his mouth. Chandler had been his friend for a long time now, but Kurt was beginning to wonder if he’d ever really been any sort of friend at all. 

After a few minutes there was a gentle tap at the door, and Rachel tip-toed in and curled up next to him on the bed. ‘I gently suggested it might be a good idea if Chandler went home for today. Give you a chance to cool off.’

Kurt nodded, pulling her close into his side. ‘You threw him out, huh? Good idea.’

There was a pause. ‘You really like him, don't you?’

Kurt didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. ‘Yeah.’ It was a relief to say it aloud. He’d told her a little of what had happened, but only the bare bones. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to talk too deeply about what he felt for Blaine. 

‘Good. I like him too. For you, I mean.’

Kurt felt his lips turn up into a bittersweet half-smile. He was happy Rachel liked Blaine so much, but he felt bad about bursting her bubble. ‘He doesn’t like me back.’

Rachel hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’

Kurt pursed his mouth up, considering. There were times he'd allowed himself to feel almost hopeful, but... Kurt just didn't trust his own judgement where Blaine was concerned. ‘I’ve gotten it all wrong with him before, Rach. I thought... there was something between us. Turned out I made it all up in my head.’

‘But, I-’

‘He was abundantly clear, Rachel. Trust me. There was…’ Kurt waved his hands around vaguely, ‘clarity. In _abundance.’_

‘Oh. Ouch.’

‘Yeah.’

Rachel squeezed the arm looped around Kurt’s waist. ‘Then he doesn’t deserve you.’

'You're sweet to say that.' Kurt snuggled more closely into Rachel's side, soaking up some of her warmth.

'I mean it. One day you'll meet some lovely boy who sees beneath all your layers, and he'll sweep you off your feet and serenade you and you'll live happily ever after.'

Kurt nodded. 'So will you.'

'Exactly. And we'll sing at each other's weddings and be honorary aunt and uncle to each other's children, and... everything's still to come for us, Kurt.' Rachel sounded so fiercely sure that Kurt almost believed her. 

*

 **From Blaine**  
**5.37pm**  
**Can I ask your advice about something, as an honorary New Yorker?**

 _From Kurt_  
_5.39pm_  
_Sure (you can imagine I said that with a thick Queens accent if you need any further assurance that I’m practically a native these days)_

 **From Blaine**  
**5.44pm**  
**Ha! Okay, but I like your real voice. So it’s supposed to be beautiful out tomorrow so we thought we’d go to Central Park. Release Katie into the wild for a bit, try to run off some of her crazy. It looks like there’s tons we could do though and we’re not sure where to start. Any suggestions, Mr Native New Yawhker?**

 _From Kurt_  
_5.46pm_  
_What sort of thing does she like? Animals, bike riding, picnics… Central Park is the mollusc of your choice, really._

 **From Blaine**  
**5.47pm**  
**All of the above (except molluscs – not sure I could sell her on those). And she’s very into fairies since we saw your show.**

 _From Kurt_  
_5.49pm_  
_Oh well Central Park is full of magical stuff like that. You just have to know where to look._

 **From Blaine**  
**5.50pm**  
**Sounds like we're in need of a tour guide…**

 **From Blaine**  
**5.57pm**  
**Kurt, that was a hugely unsubtle hint. Just to be clear. If you're open to bribes we'll throw in lunch.**

 **From Blaine**  
**5.58pm**  
**Unless you’re busy. You’re probably busy, aren’t you? Of course you’re busy, you’re the lead in a Broadway show. You probably have matinees and shindigs and such. Oh god, sorry for being so pushy.**

 _From Kurt_  
_6.01pm_  
_Blaine, I work in show business. In New York. And I live with Rachel. You are the furthest thing from pushy, trust me._

 _From Kurt_  
_6.02pm_  
_Also, re. subtlety… Again, I live with Rachel. She’s allergic to it. It brings her out in actual hives. She has to be massively tactless, bordering on offensive, at least twice a day to maintain her flawless complexion._

 _From Kurt_  
_6.03pm_  
_Also, yes I will absolutely be your tour guide, because I just realised I never actually said that. I don't have a matinee 'til Sunday. No shindigs on the calendar atm._

 **From Blaine**  
**6.05pm**  
**Okay, awesome :) Let me know when and where we should meet you? And dress code etc?**

 **From Blaine**  
**6.06pm**  
**Rachel and Cooper: separated at birth? They're like the same person in different size options. So weird. And Kurt? Thank you.**

 _From Kurt_  
_6.10pm_  
_Sure, I’ll come up with a plan and then I’ll text you? No problem. What are friends for, right?_

 **From Blaine**  
**6.11pm**  
**Right :) x**


	22. Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday!
> 
> Thanks for all the amazing feedback, I really appreciate you sticking with me <3

Blaine stared at the shelves in front of him, sucking his teeth. Although the variety of food on offer was one of the things he liked most about New York, the number of options wasn't helpful when it came to choosing food for a picnic with a guy you didn’t really know but wanted to know a whole lot better. His default method of impressing guys through food was usually baking cookies, but he didn’t have the means right now. He considered finding the store’s own cookie options, but figured Kurt was probably trying to watch what he ate if he had to be on stage every night in those very, very tight green leggings. Blaine’s eyes glazed over a little as he rifled through his very pleasant memories of those leggings. 

‘Blaine!’ Cooper’s irritated voice made Blaine jump about a foot in the air. ‘Squirt, just choose already, I wanna get out of this store while I’m still beautiful and you’re still young!’ He slouched up to Blaine and flung his own basket to the ground with a frustrated huff.

‘I know, I know, I’m just trying to get this right.’

‘Kurt’s a guy. He likes food. Just choose something and come _on.’_

Blaine could feel the tension, tight in his jaw. ‘Coop, you have no idea what sort of stress I’m under right now…’

‘How much stress can there be? He’s a good guy, he won’t _care._ God if you’re going to be like this let’s just get hot-dogs in the park like normal people!’ Cooper planted his hands on his hips dramatically.

‘Hot-dogs in the…’ Blaine’s eyes popped and he shook his head firmly. ‘No. Absolutely not. Nuh uh.’ No way was he going to feed Kurt a salmonella stick of some unidentifiable meat fished out of a trolley full of what looked like warm dirty dish water. 

‘Squiiiirt…’

The insistent whine in Cooper’s voice tipped Blaine over the edge. ‘Cooper Anderson will you _please_ let me think for a second! I need to come up with a farewell picnic to impress a guy who I thought was an asshole and sorta hated for several months while I busily fell head over heels for his arch nemesis, only to find out that the arch nemesis is actually the epic asshole in disguise, and the first guy turns out to be Prince Charming who liked me all along only I had no idea and managed to be really mean and hurtful to him, and now I need to make it up to him but all while trying to make it clear that I’m not just doing this because he can swing free theatre tickets and has a town car and the prettiest apartment I’ve ever seen, but because I think I could really… _like_ him…’ Blaine trailed off, breathlessly.

Cooper blinked. ‘Right. So, no pressure then.’

‘Exactly.’ Blaine raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

Cooper looked at him for a second before turning abruptly and shouting across the store, ‘Maria! Blaine’s broken and I need you to fix him!’ 

He turned back to Blaine and gave his arm a comforting pat, ignoring the death glare Blaine was levelling at him, as Maria and Katie rounded the end of the aisle.

Maria took one look at Blaine’s panicked face and dishevelled hair and took the situation in hand. ‘Cooper, why don’t you and Katie go and get some breakfast? Blaine and I will get a coffee and figure out a menu, and then we’ll get the food and we can all re-group in an hour or so. Okay?’

Cooper flashed a grin at her. ‘Love you.’ He kissed her cheek and took Katie’s hand to lead her out of the store, swinging their hands in the space between them. ‘Katie, let’s go get doughnuts!’

Maria turned to Blaine, setting her hands on his shoulders. ‘Coffee?’

‘Good lord, yes, please.’ Blaine exhaled.

She giggled. 'Let's go.’

Twenty minutes later he had told her everything over a large cup of coffee. 

‘So you can see why I’m freaking out a little bit.’ He finished. ‘I mean, he liked me. But then I was awful to him, said all these terrible things. And now there’s just so many things I’m unsure of…’

‘Like what?’ Maria tilted her head, listening intently.

Blaine slumped in his chair a little bit. ‘When I turned him down… I’d only ever known him as Ohio Kurt. I didn’t particularly like him, I didn’t care what he thought about me, so I was never really aware of how I acted around him. I said and did whatever I wanted. I guess now I'm over-analysing every little thing.' Maria nodded in understanding, so Blaine took a breath and continued. 'It's just... He thought I liked him back based on the way I was acting, and then he found out, brutally, that I didn’t, that I liked Sebastian. All those things I said to him – my believing Sebastian over him – it must have burst his bubble, you know? He must have realised I wasn’t who he thought I was. And then to compound it, there I was in his kitchen yesterday, making _such_ an idiot of myself. He’s had weeks to get over me, and you’ve seen him here, he’s so…’ Blaine waved his hands around, searching for the word, ‘ _right._ He’s so right, here. He must have countless other interested guys.’

‘But he had that sort of interest before. He still wanted _you._ Honestly, it seemed to me that he still does want you.’ Maria shrugged, draining her coffee. 

Blaine sighed, shaking his head. 'I want to believe that, but… I guess neither of us turned out to be what we thought each other were. Clearly my judgement about men is the worst in history. Yeah, he’s been friendly, charming, lovely… But maybe he’s just trying to prove a point, you know? That he’s a good guy and I was really wrong about him. And you heard what he said about Cooper…’

Maria snorted. ‘Oh I think everyone in Manhattan has heard what he said about Cooper, by now!’

‘Well why would he say that right in front of me if he was still interested? And I heard him tell Chandler that he’s not interested in dating anyone right now, perfectly openly and within earshot of me.’

Maria laced her fingers together, her face unconvinced. ‘I don’t know honey, maybe he was just trying to get Chandler to back off a little. He was coming on pretty strong.’

Blaine fiddled with the sugar packet on the table, tearing the edge into tiny shreds. ‘Maybe. I guess I just… I didn’t know what I was giving up. And now that I know, I’m worried that if I tell him I’ve changed my mind it’ll seem like I’m trying to take advantage of his success.’ His head thumped down onto his folded arms, and he groaned, ‘It’s such a mess, M!’ 

Maria scooted her chair around to wrap an arm around him, rubbing his back with her hand. ‘Hey, hey. It’ll be okay. I think you two have a lot to talk about. A lot of wires to uncross. But it really felt to me like you guys have… I don’t know, chemistry. Like, a lot of chemistry. And he’s been nothing but sweet and attentive since we saw him the other day, and he’s agreed to come out again today, so he clearly doesn’t hate you. Just… start there, and build. You have all these questions... Have you thought about asking him?’

Blaine nodded. ‘I know. Okay. You’re so wise. God knows why you married Cooper…’

She chuckled and tightened her arm around him. ‘Come on – we have an amazing picnic to put together so painstakingly carefully it seems completely effortless.’

He laughed and shook himself mentally as he stood up. Time to get himself together and impress Kurt Hummel.

*

Kurt was waiting for them by the entrance, looking as stylish as usual in a fine-knit, lavender colored sweater with three quarter sleeves, and slim-fitting grey checked pants, holding a large tote bag. He had his mirrored aviators on again, which was a blessing and a curse, really, given how much Blaine wanted to see his beautiful eyes, and given that the effect of said eyes on Blaine was mainly to render him a stuttering buffoon. Blaine glanced down at his own dark wash jeans, rolled at the ankle, and neat white polo, made more interesting with a yellow collar and striped bow-tie. He knew Kurt would be aware that it was all several seasons old. He must be surrounded by guys who could afford the latest designers. He felt like a dowdy country mouse in comparison to the glamorous peacocks strutting the streets of New York. He rolled his shoulders a little, trying to shake off his doubt. Kurt had liked him before, after all, even in his hard-won, hard-worn clothes.

Kurt’s mouth turned up into a huge grin when he saw Katie bound up to him, and he leaned down to scoop her into a hug. Something warm fluttered in Blaine’s chest, apparently settling where all the oxygen usually is because by the time he reached Kurt he was so light-headed and breathless all he could manage was a ‘Hi!’ that came out several octaves higher than usual.

‘Hi.’ Kurt smiled at him, and Blaine smiled back, and the fluttery warmth spread through Blaine’s whole body, settling inconveniently in his hands, which started to sweat, and his cheeks, which immediately turned brick red, he was sure. _Dear god, he was an actual teenager, all over again._ He rolled his eyes at himself. 

He held the grocery bags aloft. ‘We brought a picnic! For a farewell. A farewell picnic. Not that you have to leave straight afterwards or anything, you can stay as long as you like. I mean, obviously, you live here. It’s us that are leaving. So.’

Kurt bit his lip, seemingly holding back a smile. ‘I love picnics.’

'We thought you could maybe show us a nice picnic spot, Mr Tour Guide extraordinaire?' Blaine cringed internally at how loud and overly enthusiastic he sounded.

Kurt blushed. 'Yeah, of course. The best in the park is Cherry Hill, but that's, um...' he cast a flustered glance in Blaine's direction. 'More for couples, so. Let's head for Sheep Meadow.'

Kurt took Katie’s hand and was immediately pulled into an earnest conversation with her about whether there were real sheep still in the meadow, which segued onto other wildlife, and of course, the fairies living in the park. Blaine was utterly charmed by Kurt, and utterly embarrassed by himself.

‘Smooth, little bro. Real smooth.’ Cooper murmured into his ear, falling into step beside him. 

‘Ugh, don’t…’ Blaine shook his head ruefully, trying not to gape too obviously at the way Kurt’s shoulders filled out his light sweater. 

Cooper grinned at him. ‘Hey, you’re doing fine. Just relax. You said it was relaxed, dorky, carefree Blaine he liked, right? So just be yourself. If it’s dorky he’s into, well, _that_ you can deliver in spades.’ 

He dodged away, laughing, as Blaine swung one of the grocery bags at his legs. ‘Nice pep talk, Coop, thanks!’

After a few minutes of walking, with Kurt pointing out where various things were, like the Central Park zoo, they located a wide field where a lot of people were already stretched out, basking in the late morning sun. Some kids were playing frisbee off to the side, and a few runners circuited the perimeter. It was sort of lovely, this pocket of green tucked inside the greys and browns of the city.

Kurt got Katie to choose a spot, and once she’d found somewhere Maria spread a blanket over the ground – she apparently brought a roll-up one with her whenever she flew because of one too many bad experiences with airport delays. They all settled onto their knees, tentatively awkward in the newness of their friendship.

‘So, Miss Katie,’ Kurt said, as Blaine and Maria started arranging the food. ‘I heard that you particularly enjoyed watching Tinkerbell in the show the other night?’

Katie grinned and flung her arms wide. ‘I _love_ Tinkerbell! I wanna be a fairy when I grow up and get pixie dust and fly!’

Blaine had to laugh at the sight of her wide, earnest eyes. 

‘Well I think I can help with that,’ Kurt said, pushing his sunglasses up to the top of his head and drawing something out of his large, linen tote bag. ‘Tinkerbell gave me these to give to you because she knows you’ll take good care of them. You won’t be able to actually fly with these, because we couldn’t spare any pixie dust, but you can start to practice…’

Maria gasped and Katie squealed as Kurt unfolded a whimsical, gauzy pair of fairy wings. They were pointed at the top, curling down into beautiful tendrils. Each wing was made up of several panels, giving the illusion of exquisitely fine stained glass. The joins between each panel looked molten and delicate, like silvery veins. The wings were not quite white or silver, but shimmering somewhere in between, and iridescent in the sunlight. They were made to look like cobwebs and raindrops, Blaine thought. Intricate details were picked out in tiny, hand-stitched sequins, sparkling beadwork, and some sort of incredibly fine glitter. They were clearly not the usual mesh-stretched-over-a-coat-hanger type of fairy wings one picked up from a local store – they were a work of art. They were the most beautiful things Blaine had ever seen. 

Evidently Katie agreed because she insisted she slip the straps on immediately before throwing her arms around Kurt’s neck, breathing ‘Thank you!’ into his neck, then she stood and started to spin around, watching the wings move along with her.

Blaine’s gaze slid to Kurt’s eyes, which were lit up watching Katie’s reaction. The wings were _almost_ the most beautiful things he had ever seen, he amended silently.

Katie had to get up and run around to test out the wings immediately, tugging Cooper along with her. Maria laughed as she watched them, before taking Kurt’s hand to thank him, too. Kurt blushed and shook his head. ‘I’m glad she likes them,’ he said simply. 

‘Mommy, come see, I can fly!’ Katie shouted from above Cooper’s head, where he was holding her in the air, with some difficulty because of her height. 

‘Yeah, come see Mommy! _Quickly!_ ’ He called through gritted teeth.

Maria grinned. ‘I have to go take a photo of the princess – and his daughter – excuse me!’

And then Kurt and Blaine were left alone. Blaine watched Katie, Cooper and Maria for a second, enthralled by the way the light glittered through the gems on the wings, refracting little rainbows all around. It was mesmerising. 

_‘Kurt.’_ It was all he could manage. He hoped it was enough to convey how he was feeling. Or at least his immense gratitude. 

Kurt lifted one elegant shoulder. ‘They were one of the prototypes for Tinkerbell’s wings. They made a few pairs up smaller to see how they moved. Handily child-sized, really. In the end they went with something with more of a golden hue. The director deemed these a tad too aurora borealis, which is apparently more Titania than Tinkerbell. I asked wardrobe and they said I could have them.’ 

‘They look perfect to me. They’re beautiful.’ Blaine met Kurt’s eyes for a second then had to look down at the food quickly. 

Kurt cleared his throat. ‘Well, you said she liked fairies, so…’

‘Thank you.’ Blaine cocked his head to one side. ‘How many times can one person say ‘thank you’ to another, over two days, without driving that person bat-crap crazy?’

Kurt laughed and hummed, considering. ‘Maybe eight. You’re right at the limit, mister, so no more.’

‘Okay. I’ll have to thank you in deli meats, instead.’ Blaine winced at himself and looked down again, wondering why he ever said words out loud around Kurt. ‘Good show last night?’ He asked hurriedly, to fill the silence, opening packets of olives and tiny mozzarella balls, and pulling out freshly baked focaccia and gorgeous fresh fruit. He was the kind of guy who would usually go all out to make a picnic special for someone like Kurt - wicker basket, flowers, all the proper silverware - but he'd had to work with what they could find on short notice. He'd noticed, as they'd neared the park, signs advertising ready-made picnics, but they were way out of budget - and besides, Blaine liked feeling like he'd had a hand in putting together something nice for Kurt.

‘Yeah, it was good, thanks. It was better when you guys were there, though. Nice to have a little cheering squad.’ Kurt settled on to his side, leaning on to one outstretched arm.

Blaine shook his head a little. ‘Everyone cheers for you, Kurt. You’re amazing, you deserve it.’

Kurt ducked his head this time, fussing with the disposable plates they had bought, before looking up to see Cooper drawing Katie and Maria into some sort of complicated fairy waltz.

‘Your brother is certainly a character,’ he said, sounding amused. Jealousy flashed hotly through Blaine’s gut. _The most beautiful man in America…_ echoed through his head.

‘Hey, Squirt, you should try these wings on, they’d totally fit you - oof!’ Cooper called out across the field, cut off by a quick jab to the stomach from Maria.

Blaine narrowed his eyes, trying to control the heat in his cheeks. ‘Mm. He’s infuriating and endearing in equal measure.’ 

‘Yeah, I see that…’ Blaine watched Kurt watching Cooper, wishing desperately he could get a glimpse inside Kurt's head.

‘It’s all very cyclical. Love-hate and all that.’ Blaine sighed. ‘He’s a lot older than me so he was gone a lot when I was a kid. It wasn’t ‘til he met Maria that we… reconnected. He’s a great brother. Mostly.’

‘It’ll be good to have him closer, then. For all of you.’

‘Mm.’ Blaine hummed noncommittally, not wanting to mention his plans for New York while they were still so uncertain. He was due to hear back about the job interview that day or the next, and talking about it felt like jinxing it. 

He was saved from going into his plans further by the other Andersons coming back to the blanket, breathless and hungry for food. Katie kept up a constant stream of chatter while they ate, telling Kurt about her school, her best friends, and her favorite stuffed animals. Blaine was amused to see Kurt’s competitive side make an appearance when Cooper challenged them both to an olive-catching competition. Blaine ended up losing appallingly, with Kurt the clear victor - which Blaine put down to Cooper’s big mouth, Kurt’s talented one, and his own total lack of focus. He pseudo-sulked for a little bit, which threatened to turn into actual sulking when Cooper tried to get Kurt to join him in a victory dance mere inches from his face. 

Kurt seemed to notice the impending pout and managed to rescue him by gently suggesting they explore the park a little more, so they packed up their leftovers and followed him down a series of paths, shaded from the sun by a canopy of trees, punctuated by black, wrought iron lamp-posts that were straight out of a C.S.Lewis novel. In truth, Blaine barely noticed where they were going, he was just so _aware_ of Kurt being near him, and of how good he smelled, and of how complicated walking really was once you thought about it, especially if you were trying not to humiliate yourself in the process.

He realised Kurt had led them off the path into a little green glade of trees that ran down to a narrow rivulet of water branching off of the pond. The water sparkled and glittered as it ran over the stones near the bank, and the sound of it immediately soothed Blaine's frazzled nerves. To the right was a beautiful, arched bridge made of grey stone, covered with lush patches of moss. It was like something straight out of a fairy tale, framed in startling juxtaposition with the tall steel and glass buildings of New York behind it. 

‘This is where the New York fairies all come for their picnics,’ Kurt told Katie in a hushed, reverent tone. ‘I bet if we look really carefully we could find some things they’ve left behind.’ 

Katie was entranced, talking excitedly non-stop as she looked around her. Maria led Katie a little way away to search, while Kurt stealthily pulled some tiny things from his bag, which he placed carefully around a nearby tree, making sure Katie wasn’t looking.

Blaine stood off to one side, waiting until Kurt was satisfied.

‘It’s so pretty here,’ he said, settling down on a wide, flat stone near the water, enjoying the warmth it held, tipping his face up to the sun.

‘Yeah.’ Kurt sat next to him, leaning his weight back on his hands. ‘I have another favourite spot – another bridge, actually. But I love it here, too.’ 

‘You’ll have to show me?’ Kurt's face tensed for a second and Blaine wondered if he had over-stepped.

Kurt chewed his lip then smiled. ‘Yeah. I’d like that.’

Just then a squeal from Katie indicated that she had found some of Kurt’s mystery items, and moments later she was sat in Kurt’s lap, showing him two tiny, intricate chairs made of twigs and twine, a matching table, and two tea cups made of acorns. There was even a miniature gingham tablecloth. Blaine was just as enchanted as Katie was, cooing over everything and making up stories about the fairies that might have left them behind. After a couple of minutes Maria's voice floated through the trees, calling for Katie, who took off like a shot, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone together.

Blaine touched a fingertip to the little table. ‘These are so adorable. They look a little small for prototype props, though…’ He squinted at Kurt, who blushed and examined his own feet.

‘It’s possible I made them…’

‘Kurt! Did you sleep at all last night?’ Blaine picked up the tiny tablecloth, admiring the neat, perfect stitching at the hems.

Kurt shrugged. ‘I’m always buzzed after a show. And I liked doing it. None of it took very long.’ He picked up the tiny chair and turned it in his long, pale fingers. ‘My mom used to make these for me, and hide them in our garden.’ The nostalgia in his voice was heart-breaking. ‘It’s lovely to be able to do it for someone else, actually. It was one of my big worries after my dad died. That I’d forget her, without him, you know? But then you remember little things like this…’ He smiled, setting the chair down. 

Blaine badly wanted to reach over and take his hand. He watched the planes of his face for a second, considering, then jumped up, reaching down to grab Kurt’s hand and pull him up to standing. ‘Come play pooh-sticks? My dad used to play with us, when we were kids.’

Kurt laughed in surprise. ‘Okay. Yeah.’ 

He didn’t pull his hand away.

He let Blaine lead him by the hand, in a half-run, up to the bridge, laughing at Blaine’s child-like enthusiasm as they gathered a few small sticks up, Blaine declaring each and every one the sure winner. When they were stood on the bridge, looking out over the pond, surrounded by lush trees, it felt like they could be anywhere in any world. They sort of were, Blaine thought, the skin on his palm and fingertips still tingling from where they had been pressed against Kurt's skin. They were in this magical place Kurt had created that he was sure he'd never have found without him.

Sadly for Blaine it seemed Kurt’s magical powers also extended to winning at pooh-sticks every single time, although he told himself he was just chivalrously letting Kurt win. Maybe once or twice he did, just to hear Kurt's laugh ring out over the water, just to see his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiled.

Eventually the others re-appeared, Katie clutching a tiny fairy washing line hung with delicate, fairy-sized petticoats, having scoured the surrounding area for more fairy furniture for a little longer than they’d really needed to. Blaine’s suspicious glance at Maria was confirmed by a cheeky wink. 

‘Uh oh. Did you beat Blainey at pooh-sticks? He’s going to trip over that pout if he’s not careful!’ Cooper gripped Blaine’s shoulders. ‘He’s a terrible loser! And I mean that on every level.’ He shot an exaggerated wink at Blaine, who rolled his eyes. 

Kurt chuckled. ‘No, he’s been pretty good actually, considering how badly he’s losing.'

Cooper guffawed and slapped Kurt on the back, demanding he try his luck against the real athlete in the family.

Blaine huffed and pointed out that there was no athleticism involved in pooh-sticks whatsoever, but the two other men were already engrossed in their game. He watched them play for a few minutes, following the ripples of the water as the twigs landed, while Maria and Katie looked over their fairy treasures and packed them carefully in a bag for Katie. 

When Cooper and Kurt eventually called it a draw, Kurt stretched his arms above his head and then pulled his sunglasses back down to cover his eyes. ‘So I thought the zoo, next? It’s just a few minutes that way.’ 

‘Yeah, the zoo!’ Katie twirled off down the path a little way, her wings shimmering behind her.

Blaine shot Maria a pleading look, immensely grateful that he wasn’t just here with Cooper.

‘Hey, guys, my Mommy-intuition tells me we're about to hit crazy-o'clock with Katie and we're due a little melt-down. Why don't Cooper and I take her to the zoo and feed her ice cream, try to work up a good old fashioned sugar high to delay the inevitable for an hour or two, and you guys grab a coffee and take five. You've been so amazing with her today already.'

‘Yeah?' Kurt looked over at Blaine, and Blaine thought maybe, _maybe,_ he looked hopeful. The butterflies in his stomach started fluttering up a storm again at the prospect of a little bit of time alone with Kurt.

'Can I buy you a coffee? Juice?' He tried to choose his words carefully so as not to embarrass himself.

‘Yeah,' Kurt's cheeks turned that beautiful shade of pink, and Blaine wanted so badly to kiss them. 'That’d be good.’

Maria went to join Katie and Cooper, a knowing little smile playing about her lips, and Kurt led Blaine in the other direction.

They stopped at a cart to buy juice, and then Blaine followed Kurt as they walked slowly up the Mall. They didn’t really talk, but Blaine shot little peeks over at him occasionally, admiring his profile, then they both stifled smiles when they caught each other mid-glance.

He was aware, on some level, that Kurt was talking to him about Bethesda Terrace, and the fountain, as they walked through them, but he was much more keenly aware of the silky cadences of Kurt's voice. He was aware, on some level, that Kurt was pointing out the Loeb Boathouse to him on the other side of the lake, but he was much more keenly aware of the close proximity of Kurt's warmth, of how their hands were only inches away from each other and it would be so easy to reach out, to just, to just...

‘And this is Bow Bridge.’

Blaine realised the path had forked, and Kurt had led them left so they could look over at the pale, Victorian bridge that arched gracefully across the narrow section of lake, reflected back beautifully in the water to form a perfect oval. He felt his mouth hang open. _‘Oh…_ It’s beautiful.’ 

‘Yeah. She’s a movie star, too. Been in lots of films.’

‘Well she’s gorgeous.’ 

Kurt smiled. 'She's my favorite.'

They started to walk back around so they could look at the view from the bridge, when were stopped in their tracks by a couple of guys in their late twenties, in standard tourist jeans and sneakers. ‘Hey, are you Kurt Hummel? We saw you in Peter Pan last week! Can we have a picture with you?’

Blaine let himself fade into the background while Kurt talked with his fans, wandering a few feet away, giving them space to have their moment. He couldn't stop himself frowning a little when he realised the taller of the two guys, who was blond and gorgeous and built like a brick wall, _of course,_ was trying to give Kurt his number. Blaine looked away out of politeness, and down at himself, feeling a little small and a lot stupid.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kurt tuck the card back into the guy's hand, patting it in apology as he declined with a kind shake of his head. _Huh._ Kurt wasn't interested in Bjorn the six-foot-square underwear model. He felt a smile bubble up from some insecure place inside him. Then, as he watched Kurt chat to them, laughing with them over something, he wondered how long it had taken Kurt to get used to being recognised. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like. It reminded him of the _otherness_ of Kurt’s life, how alien so much of it was to Blaine. Maybe there was just a fundamental disconnect between their two lives, too great to be bridged. 

_Except…_

Except when he looked up, Kurt was looking over at him with that _look_ again, the look that made Blaine’s head spin, and something sweet and sharp shoot through his abdomen, and he thought maybe they could handle all the major disconnects as long the ways in which they did connect were strong enough. 

Kurt waved goodbye to the guys and strolled back over to Blaine, who had picked up a couple of twigs and was holding one out to Kurt. ‘Re-match?’

Kurt laughed and shook his head, ‘Hmm, we’d better not. Clearly I’d win, and I know what that does to you, when I win...’ he smiled, looking up at Blaine through his eyelashes and then lowered his voice as though imparting some big secret, 'I'm not sure our budding friendship could take it.' He brushed past Blaine, close, so close, and led the way up to the bridge. 

Was Kurt... Could Kurt be _flirting?_ Blaine couldn’t suppress his smile, jogging to catch up him. ‘I think you’ll find I’m usually a very gracious loser, it’s just tough when Cooper is such an insufferably smug winner.’

They got about half way over the bridge and turned to lean against the side, looking out over the water towards the city skyline. Blaine could see why Kurt liked it here. It was romantic, part of the city but separate from it; a place to take a breath.

Blaine fiddled with his watch strap before squaring his shoulders. ‘Kurt… I know I’m not supposed to thank you anymore, but I… You’ve really sprinkled fairy dust over this whole trip for us, you know?’

Kurt flushed pink and smiled. ‘Well it's very cheesy of you to say so.' Then he cut off Blaine's laughing protest with 'I'm glad. I felt bad for ruining your Destin trip.’

Blaine’s heart sank. Maybe this had all been about Kurt assuaging his own guilty conscience.

He sighed. ‘You didn’t ruin my Destin trip, Kurt. Or… Well, I think we did a pretty good job of ruining each other’s Destin trips.’

‘That’s probably fair, yeah.’ Kurt grinned briefly before his face turned serious. ‘But I owed you one anyway, after yesterday. When Chandler brought up Sebastian like that in front of Rachel?’

Blaine scrunched up his face. 'No, that was nothing, don't worry about that.'

‘I honestly didn’t invite you to lunch just to have someone make embarrassing comments about your boyfriend, so, I’m really sorry.’

‘Boyfriend? Oh. _Oh._ No. He’s not, um… I haven’t seen him since just after I got back from Destin. I talked to him a little about what was in your letter, and, uh. You were right. Not such a nice guy after all, it turns out.’ _Had Kurt thought Sebastian was his boyfriend, all this time? And he'd still been this nice to him?_

Kurt’s brow creased and his face softened in sympathy. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Blaine’s breath hitched in his throat. Kurt was such a good guy, to be this gracious about it, when he could so easily have rubbed Blaine’s nose in it. Blaine shrugged a little. ‘It’s okay. I’m grateful to you, actually, for helping me see it before I was in deep enough to get really hurt. Honestly, I think part of me always knew something was off. But you’ll be shocked, I’m sure, to learn I can be a little bit stubborn…’ He smiled shyly over at Kurt, who was looking back with something Blaine would swear was affection on his face. 

‘Totally shocked. You hide it _really_ well.’ Sarcasm dripped from Kurt’s voice.

Blaine laughed and nudged him in the shoulder, taking the opportunity to settle a little closer to Kurt on the metal railing. ‘Shut up. You’re stubborn, too.’

‘I prefer to think of myself as tenacious, actually.’ Kurt folded his hands primly in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were still turned up just enough for Blaine to know he was still teasing.

'Pfft. Semantics...' Blaine smiled down at the water, letting his shoulders relax. There was something about being Kurt that was so exciting, and also deeply calming - like he was right where he was meant to be. He glanced over at Kurt, still so inscrutable even after all the time they'd spent together over the last couple of days. Maybe Maria was right. The only way to know was just to ask him. He couldn't do worse than Olaf the bottle blond mountain climber, over there. He drew in a shaky breath. That's what he should do. Totally. He should just ask Kurt if there was a chance for him. For them. Easy. Just _ask_ him. 

‘Kurt, I-'

‘Blaine-' They both started speaking at the same time, both breaking off and laughing awkwardly. 

‘After you,’ Blaine offered.

‘No, you go.’ Kurt made an 'after you' gesture with his hand and doffed his imaginary cap.

‘We’re never going to get anywhere if we both keep being this gallant,’ Blaine chuckled. ‘So, okay. Uh. Okay. Kurt, I-‘ He was interrupted by the loud trill of his phone ringing. _Damn._ He couldn’t ignore it, it might be about the job. He slid his phone from his pocket. ‘I’m really sorry, I have to take this, I’m expecting something really important.’ He grasped Kurt's hand. 'I will be right back, I promise.'

‘Of course, it’s fine.’ Kurt squeezed his hand back briefly, making his heart stutter in his chest.

He crossed to the other railing of the bridge, just out of earshot of Kurt in case it was someone calling to turn him down for the job. When he finally looked at the display he was surprised to see it was Sam. He thumbed over the screen.

'Hey, Sam, are you okay?'

'Hey, man. No, not really. I'm so sorry to call when you're on vacation, but something's happened.'

Cold dread filled Blaine's chest and filtered down through his limbs, turning his blood icy. 'What? What's happened?'

'It's Kitty. She's gone.'

Blaine pressed his fingers to his temple. 'What? I don't understand.' Kitty was probably just out partying. It wasn't unusual for her to be away for a couple of days.

'I went into her room today and it was empty. Her closet's empty. There's a note to say that Sebastian's agent offered her a contract and they needed her to sign it immediately, so she could do modelling, and possibly film work. Blaine, she says that Sebastian's arranged everything for her, that he's bought her tickets...'

'Sebastian? I didn't even realise they knew each other that well...' Blaine gripped the metal railing so hard his fingers hurt.

'Well they've been hanging out, and I guess we never told her about Kurt's letter so she thought you guys were cool when you broke up...'

'Oh my god, Sam, he could have gotten her into _anything!_ What the hell do we do? Did she say where she went?' The potential ways in which this could go badly for Kitty started to hurtle through Blaine's mind, faster and faster, relentless.

'No, and she's not answering her phone, it just goes straight to voicemail. I've left a ton of messages, but I don't know what else to do...' Sam sounded distraught. If Sebastian was the kind of person who would stoop as low as manipulating an emotionally vulnerable, recently bereaved girl into nude photos, god knows what he might persuade a fame-hungry, attention-starved narcissist to do with promises of big pay-checks and her name in lights.

'Does Lauren know anything?'

'No, she's as upset as we are. Well she is now she knows Sebastian's bad news. She maybe didn't seem as surprised as I was to find that Kitty had just taken off.'

 _'Fuck...'_ Blaine breathed out. 'Goddammit, the stupid kid. Okay, you go find her friends on campus and ask if she's said anything to them. I'll call everyone I can from here. I'll try her mom and figure out a way to see if she's said anything to her without worrying her too much. We fly home first thing tomorrow so you and I can put our heads together then and see what else we can do.'

'Okay. Keep in touch, yeah?'

'Of course. You too, you tell me if you hear _anything_ , okay?'

Sam rang off and Blaine sank down into a crouch, putting his head in his hands. 'Fuck...' He breathed out, again.

'Blaine?' Cool fingers wrapped around his wrist. 'Blaine, are you okay? What's wrong, are you ill? Do you need water?' Kurt squatted next to him, putting a tentative arm around his shoulders to steady him.

Blaine shook his head. 'No, I'm... It's not me, it's... It's Kitty. Sam just called to tell me that she's gone off with Sebastian, god knows where. He's made her sign some sort of contract, she left this note, she's all excited, there's supposed to be modelling, and movie work, and oh my god, Kurt, this is Sebastian. He hates me now, this has to be revenge... This cannot be good. Fuck, Kurt, I should have told her, you know? I should have told her what sort of guy he was, I could have stopped this from happening...' 

Kurt paled, and closed his eyes. 'Shit. Blaine, are you sure?'

'Completely. She's not answering her phone or picking up messages, I don't even know where she is...' Blaine ran an anguished hand through his hair. 'What am I going to do? This is all my fault. She's like my sister...' 

Kurt stood, abruptly, not seeming to notice how his moving nearly made Blaine tip over. Blaine immediately missed the reassuring weight of his arm around his shoulders, his hand around his wrist. He watched Kurt withdraw into himself again, in front of his eyes, all the ease they'd built between them dissipating in seconds at the mention of Sebastian.

Kurt paced up and down near where Blaine still crouched, his expression torn. Blaine's heart sank. This must be a horrible, painful reminder to Kurt, of how he had felt when this had happened to Rachel. He couldn't blame Kurt for shying away from it. It's not as if he owed Blaine anything, or could do anything to help. In any case Kurt probably shouldn't be anywhere near the sort of sordid scandal that Sebastian was undoubtedly hoping to bring forth, not with his lead role, not with all his future ahead of him. He couldn't risk any of that for some kid from Ohio whom he barely knew. 

'I should go,' Kurt announced, checking his watch then wrapping his arms around his middle defensively. Blaine couldn't see his eyes under the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses. 'You probably have a ton of stuff to do to try to figure this out.'

Blaine took a deep breath and pulled himself back up to standing. 'Yeah. I'm gonna call just about everybody in Columbus, so.' _To hell with it,_ he thought, and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kurt in an approximation of a hug, if it can really be called that when the other person stands rigid and declines to reciprocate. It didn't matter, Blaine just needed to do it for his own sake. 'Thanks for everything, Kurt.'

Kurt went to take a step backwards and hesitated. 'You too. Sorry I didn't get to show you more. There's a folly, and gazebos, and... Yeah. This farewell picnic was perfect, though.' He took another step backwards. He was only a few feet away but Blaine felt like he'd never been further out of Blaine's reach than he was right now. 'Say goodbye to your family for me?'

There were a lot of things Blaine wanted to say. _Don't go. Don't leave me. Please stay. I need you._ Instead he smiled softly and said, 'Of course.' Kurt was obviously overwhelmed and needed to leave, and Blaine wanted to give him an out, to make it less awkward. It was the least he could do, really. 'Bye, Kurt. Take care.'

Kurt nodded. 'You too. Good luck with Kitty.' Then he turned and jogged away. Blaine watched, his fist pressed tightly to his chest, until Kurt was completely out of sight and he was totally alone, before slumping backward against the cool metal railing. He grabbed his phone, and dialled Cooper's number. He didn't have time to be heart-broken. He would deal with that later. Right now he had much bigger problems to deal with. 


	23. Twenty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback and thoughtful comments, which I really, truly appreciate!

Kurt checked his watch again as he hurried down the sidewalk towards his apartment building, where Rachel was waiting for him. It was a little before four. He clucked his tongue distractedly. He really wasn’t looking forward to explaining what was going on with Sebastian, but he didn’t have a choice. He knew it would dredge up unpleasant things for her – shame, embarrassment, betrayal – and more than that, it would take her right back to the head-space she was in after Finn’s death. He would have to keep a careful eye on her after this. But he couldn’t let Sebastian get away with exploiting someone else. Not again.

His chest tightened painfully at the memory of Blaine’s body, crumpled with shock and dismay, his breath hitching when he remembered how Blaine had taken all the blame on his own shoulders. Kurt wouldn't allow that - _couldn’t_ allow that. Every cell in his body rebelled against the idea of Blaine hurting because of something Kurt could have prevented. After all, Kurt was the one who had asked Blaine to keep Sebastian’s history private. Sebastian would probably have shown a lot less interest if Blaine if he hadn’t been trying to make Kurt jealous, and Kurt was sure that his motive for pulling this stunt with Kitty was at least partly to get at Kurt more through hurting Blaine. 

He felt bad for running off so abruptly at the park, but he didn’t have a lot of time to talk to Rachel before he had to leave again for the theatre, and he needed to act tonight if he was going to find Kitty before she got into anything too deep. Besides, he couldn’t stand to look at Blaine’s anguished face another second without doing something to help. He’d felt so guilty he could barely breathe. Blaine had been as gentlemanly as ever, even hugging him goodbye, and all Kurt could do was stand there, frozen, knowing Blaine would very likely have been better off if he’d never met him at all. 

Blaine had been sweetly flustered all day, and Kurt could have sworn he’d seen something dark and disappointed flash over Blaine’s face when that random guy had hit on him. He’d braved getting a little more brazen with his flirting, the tiny little flame of hope that he’d never quite managed to extinguish flaring up excitedly when Blaine seemed to welcome his attentions – even reciprocate them a little.

But then… Kurt sighed out loudly in frustration, earning himself a curious look from a passer-by. He wrapped his arms around himself as he walked, his shoulders slumping as a deep sense of resignation settled into his bones. It seemed like all he did was cause trouble for Blaine. He had to fix this. 

A plan was starting to form in the recesses of his brain, but he would need help. He would need Rachel, and he would need Elliott, but he wasn’t sure that was enough. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hesitating over the name. It was something of a leap of faith to involve her in something like this, he knew. She would probably be furious that he hadn’t confided in her when Seb screwed Rachel over, all those years ago. But he was sure she would help, because she was nothing if not fiercely loyal – and Kurt needed as much fierce on his side as he could get. He dialled the number.

‘Santana? It’s Kurt. I need your help.’

*

After he had finished his show (he had been going through the motions, really, so it wasn’t his very finest work), he slipped out of the stage door and signed a couple of autographs for the patient few who had waited for him. After thanking them sincerely he buttoned his coat and went to join Elliott, who was waiting for him a few feet away with Santana. It had been a few months since their last reunion down on the corner by their old loft, but she would always feel like home, just like all his very closest friends did.

‘Santana!’ He felt a little choked up at how readily she had come to his aid.

‘Lady Hummel.’ She looked him up and down appraisingly. ‘For god’s sake come here.’ She opened her arms and pulled him into a brief hug. Santana-hugs were always a little more exhilarating than anyone else’s, Kurt thought, because you could never be 100% sure she wasn’t going to stab you in the process. ‘So I know you gave me the run-down on the phone, but why did I need to be here tonight specifically, other than to look hot?’ She released Kurt in order to put her hands on her hips, and slowly span on the spot in order to demonstrate that she did indeed look hot, her long hair loose and her dress tightly hugging every inch of her.

Kurt started to walk. ‘Well, if my marathon sessions of Murder, She Wrote have taught me anything it’s that douche-bags are creatures of habit, and Bas is the biggest douche-bag I know. I think it’s very likely that he’d come back here, with Kitty. He knows the city, he has the contacts, it’s easy to hide here. Plus I think he’ll be loving the chance to do this under my nose, just so he can crow about it later.’ He felt the old wounds, deep and scarred from years of Sebastian’s betrayal, start to ache all over again.

Elliott nodded. ‘That makes sense. It’s worth a try, for sure. But where do we even start?’

Kurt shoved his hands in his coat pockets to ward off the night chill. ‘I think we start with Brody. Elliott, you know the bar Sebastian used to take Rachel to. I say we go there, ask around after his, ahem, _services.'_ Kurt blushed as he said it, grateful that the darkness obscured it from Santana. 'See if we can’t find someone who knows him, who could put us in touch. Maybe he’ll be swayed by money, but I don’t know…’

Santana pursed her lips. ‘Don’t worry your pretty head, Lady Hummel. Today is your lucky day, because Auntie Snix just arrived on the Bitch Town Express and I think it’s time to do what Snix does best. Revenge!’ 

‘Alright, alright, don’t hulk out too soon. We’ll probably need you to sweet talk some girls at the bar. I don’t want to risk Elliott or I getting recognised by someone who knows there’s bad blood between us and Sebastian.’

Santana huffed out a sigh and kicked at the sidewalk a little in her toweringly high – and, Kurt noted, dangerously pointy – boots. ‘Fine, but I’d better get to kick someone’s ass tonight. I got on public transport for this.’

Kurt laughed and looped his arm through hers. ‘Thanks Santana,’ he murmured into her ear. 

*

‘Kurt if you don’t sit the fuck down I will not be held responsible for my actions.’ Elliott ground his teeth together so hard Kurt could hear them from several feet away, on the patch of pavement where he’d been pacing and muttering for well over forty minutes.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what’s taking so long…’

‘Stop worrying. If anyone’s got this, Santana has.’ Elliott reached out for Kurt’s arm and tugged him down beside him on the low wall. ‘It’ll be alright.’

On the opposite side of the street, a gaggle of drunk, giggling girls fell out of the doorway of the club and tottered off, their loud shrieks only just audible over the thumping bass line of the music spilling out into the street. Kurt looked up and down the poorly lit, unkempt road, and sighed in disgust. ‘It looks like the kind of place where the floor is so sticky it would suck your shoes right off your feet until they were gone, like the horse in Neverending Story. I can’t believe Bas ever brought Rachel here. I can’t believe _Bas_ ever came here.’

‘Shady place for a shady dude,’ Elliott muttered.

‘How the fuck are we back here again, El?’ Kurt ran a hand through his hair, no longer caring if it messed it up. 

‘I don’t know. Probably the fact our hopelessly optimistic faith in the inherent goodness of human nature stopped us from having his sorry ass arrested last time.’ Elliott rested his chin on his hand ruefully.

‘Mm.’ Kurt hummed in agreement. ‘I’m a jaded New Yorker now, though.’

Elliott turned to him, eyebrows raised. ‘So no more Mr Nice Hummel, huh?’

‘No more Mr Nice Hummel.’ Kurt’s voice was as grim as he felt. 

Just then the next wave of inebriated girls stumbled out onto the sidewalk, Santana among them. She crossed over to join Kurt and Elliott, waving her new friends goodbye and winking salaciously at them as they went. Kurt stood quickly. ‘Well? What happened? Did anybody know him? Did you get his number?’ 

‘Honey, I got, like, six numbers. That place is gross but awesome!’ Santana grinned widely, brandishing her phone in the air triumphantly, then rolled her eyes at Kurt’s death glare. ‘Oh settle down Hummel, I’m a married lady. Nice to know I still got it though…’ She took a step closer to Kurt. ‘And obviously one of the numbers is Brody’s. We have an appointment with him in an hour, in a very cheap and seedy hotel a few blocks from here.’ She bounced on her toes a little. ‘Ooh I’m so glad I wore my ass-whupping shoes!’

*

The hotel was just as cheap and seedy as Santana had promised. Kurt and Elliott were hidden out of sight in the tiny bathroom, in case Brody let on to Sebastian that Kurt was involved and it spooked him. Kurt had had to wrap his arms around himself just to keep from touching any of the suspiciously stained furnishings. Or the gently seeping walls. Or the smudged and tarnished hardware. He wouldn’t even be touching the floor if he had any means of defying gravity right now. Ugh, had he really just allowed himself to think of a beautiful Broadway show in a place as hellish as this? He silently sent up a heartfelt apology to Idina Menzel, who he knew would hear him. He may not believe in god, but he believed in Broadway divas. 

His stomach lurched with nerves as he heard the hotel door open, complete with the sort of bone-chilling creak most often heard in horror movies right before people got stabbed to death… in hotel rooms just like this, come to think of it. He hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Brody before, but he was reasonably certain he was a sad pervert, not a serial killer. Regardless, he was very glad he’d brought Santana along. Kurt might be flawless with a Japanese throwing star but that didn’t mean he had them secreted handily about his person. Santana, however, could dislocate a grown man’s shoulder with just her pinky and was very much not to be fucked with.

Kurt heard Brody gasp as he saw her. He probably couldn't believe his luck.

‘Hi, you must be Brody?’ Credit where credit was due, Kurt thought, she managed to sound sultry even in this hideous dump.

‘That’s right.’ Brody sounded a little hoarse. ‘I didn’t quite catch your name on the phone?’

‘Oh I didn't say?' There was a scuffling noise and an anguished squeak from Brody that had both Kurt and Elliott wincing in unison. 'I’m your worst nightmare.’

‘What the… fuck…’ Brody sounded muffled and terrified. Santana, on the other hand, sounded like she was enjoying this way too much. 

‘Listen up, you weirdly hairless freak. You have a creepy little friend by the name of Sebastian, right?’

There was a pause. Another squeak.

‘Well you’re going to tell me everything you know about where he is right now, who he’s with, what he’s doing… Everything, got it?’

‘Wh-why? Who are you?’

‘All you need to know is these three things… Firstly, I am a hardcore friend and if you cross my friends I will destroy you. Secondly, destruction can come in a form of your choice. Either I can kick you square in the balls repeatedly in my spiky, spiky shoes, or I will have you gagged and bound and dragged to a tattoo parlour for a tramp stamp that reads ‘tips appreciated’ or ‘congratulations, you’re my thousandth customer’. And thirdly, and listen good right here because this is very important... I have _no_ ethical problems with homicide. None.’

‘Okay… Okay… I’ll tell you anything you want to know, just _please_ stop pinching that so hard!’

Kurt met Elliott’s eyes in the dim light of the mouldy bathroom, his chest filling with hopeful apprehension. Game on.

*

When Sam met Blaine at the airport it was a completely different scenario to the time before it. There was no silly grin, no joyous reconciliation. Sam was as sombre as Blaine had ever seen him, and he knew that the dark circles under his eyes matched Sam’s. 

‘Any news?’ He asked breathlessly.

‘Nuh uh.’ Sam shook his head. ‘She’s still not answering her phone, and she hasn’t been on social media. It's fucking _weird,_ man.’

‘Shit.’ Blaine sighed. ‘Alright, let’s do this, then.’

He and Sam made their way to the airport car-lot, where Sam had parked the car he’d borrowed from a friend on campus. They had agreed the night before, after striking out with Kitty’s friends on campus, that it would be worth visiting Sebastian’s friends from West Side Story, which was currently finishing up its run in Indianapolis. 

‘So nobody knows anything?’ Blaine asked once they were settled in the car.

‘Nope. As far as her friends know everything was completely normal for her.’

Blaine chewed on the inside of his cheek. ‘Sebastian must have made it seem urgent, or she’d at least have called us all to gloat.’

Sam laughed a little. ‘That’s true. Is it crazy to hope they really have caught a break and have gone off to make it big in Hollywood?'

Blaine stared over at him. ‘Crazy is an accurate description, yeah.’

Sam’s shoulders slumped. ‘Oh. Hey, I brought the note she left. Wanna see?’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’

Sam fished a crumpled piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and handed it over. Blaine smoothed it out as best he could, choking out a bitter little laugh over the first couple of lines,

_'Hola bitches!_

_Actually it should be ‘adios’, because I am officially out of this hell hole! Bas has had a call from his agent who wants us both for an advertising shoot, which could lead to an audition for a legit movie! I can hardly write this for all the flailing (Sebastian’s, not mine). I have to go – this could be my big break! If it works out I’ll send Ryan Reynolds for my clothes, because we’ll obviously be BFFs. Tell Tina to keep her dirty thieving paws off my stuff until then or I’ll break every one of her fingers._

_I’ll miss Lauren. The rest of you suck._

_Call you when I get there,_

_Love Kitty_

_P.S. You should keep this because soon my autograph will be worth enough to keep Sam in chapstick for at least a year.'_

‘So she obviously meant to call, then.’ It seemed too much of a coincidence for her to have lost her phone without Sebastian having engineered it, somehow, which didn’t do anything to help the cold sense of dread that squatted heavily in Blaine’s stomach. 

He read the note again and closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He didn’t know whether to be irritated by Kitty’s flippancy, or heart-broken for her naivety. She always liked to present herself as super-tough, but he knew she meant that ‘love’ more than any other part of the note, and he couldn't do anything to help her. This was horrible. He had a deeper understanding, now, of what Kurt had gone through with Rachel. Of how he must feel now about Sebastian. And even when he'd thought Blaine was in a relationship with him he'd still been so kind and so sweet. Blaine glanced sideways at Sam. He didn't mention Kurt. He didn't think it was very likely they'd even see him again. There was no point re-hashing it all, they just had to hope now that someone would know something that could help them find their girl. 

* 

They were grimly silent on the drive back home. Their trip to see Seb’s cast mates had proved to be an exercise in futility. It turned out Seb had upped and gone with no notice, leaving behind him an unfilled role in the show, a mountain of unpaid debts and quite a few bruised and broken hearts. Shame washed over him as he realised, yet again, just how blind he’d been to who Sebastian really was. 

Blaine’s head ached and his eyes felt gritty. He was exhausted. He didn’t know where to go from here. He figured there was no point calling the police. Kitty was an adult after all, and had gone willingly. He’d keep calling people, keep trying, and just hope that she got in touch when she was ready. He fervently prayed that it would be sooner rather than later. 

* 

Kurt took a deep breath, and carefully pounded on the chipped, peeling door, three times. The fluorescent light above their heads flickered on and off, giving an unpleasantly quality to the hallway. Elliott and Santana stood just behind him for physical and moral support. Santana had begged to be allowed to handle Sebastian, but Kurt was insistent it should be him. He and Sebastian were where this mess had started. He wanted to finally, _finally,_ finish it. 

The seconds ticked on agonisingly slowly, until finally the door was hauled open and Kurt came face to face with Sebastian, who looked thinner and somehow sharper around the edges than when Kurt had last seen him. As soon as he saw Kurt his jaw fell in shock, and he immediately tried to yank backwards to throw the door shut, but Kurt wedged himself in the frame. Sebastian’s eyes darted around frantically, and Kurt could tell by how blown his pupils were that he was probably on something. 

‘Sebastian,’ Kurt tried to keep his voice steely but light. He couldn’t let Sebastian know how nervous he was. He tried to tap into his anger instead – into his anger for Rachel, for his dad, for Kitty, for Blaine… for _himself…_ And okay, now he was mad. He knew his eyes must be flashing as he took another step inside, trying to brace his shoulders and puff out his chest to appear as big as possible, flexing the muscles that his stage training had honed. 

He heard a girl’s giggle coming from another room, and he tilted his head towards it, narrowing his eyes at his old friend. 

‘I think we need to have a little chat, Sebastian. It's time.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Santana's dialogue is largely taken from canon, because basically everything she says is perfect :)


	24. Twenty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, always, for your comments which are so motivating and inspiring x

Kurt shouldered his way into the room, forcing Sebastian to retreat. If Seb was nervous he didn't show it, perching his rear end on the edge of an ancient sideboard, drumming his fingers nonchalantly against the chipped wood. He looked rough, though, his eyes blood-shot and his skin waxy. He obviously hadn't washed his hair or clothes for a few days.

‘What do you want Hummel? And Hummel’s lackies…’ Sebastian rolled his eyes towards Elliott and Santana, who had moved into the room to stand behind Kurt. ‘Let me guess…’ He smirked, leaning in so close that Kurt could feel his breath, hot and damp on his neck. ‘You missed me.’ 

Kurt stood his ground, staring Sebastian down until he sauntered off to grab a bottle of beer he must have been sipping before he answered the door. Kurt took in the dusty room, which looked like it was intended to be some sort of storage space. It was essentially a cold, gray concrete box, the windows bare, with cracked, murky panes. Every corner was full of junk, thick with cobwebs and mould, and the air smelled like a sour mixture of damp and metallic rust. A beaten up old couch sat in the centre of the room, in front of a low, dented coffee table covered with foil wrappers, food packets and dirty dishes. Kurt didn't look at it too closely, afraid of what he might see.

‘It’s true,’ Kurt said drily. ‘I just can’t get enough of you.’ He gestured around the room. ‘I see you continue to move up in the world, Sebastian.’

Sebastian smiled. ‘So why are you here, slumming it with the commoners, Princess? Finally decided we should act on our mad sexual chemistry?’ He grabbed a fistful of Kurt’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Sebastian’s eyes were flinty, and the smell of his stained, unwashed shirt filled Kurt’s nose. Kurt jerked backwards out of his grasp.

‘Jesus, no. When was the last time you showered, Bas?’

Sebastian laughed coldly. ‘Ha. Like I would honestly touch a frigid bitch like you with a ten foot pole. The most excitement you see at night is your rigorous sloughing...’

Santana snorted. ‘You’ve obviously not been around much lately, rat-boy. There’s still rigorous sloughing, but it’s much more x-rated these days…’

‘Thank you, Santana, but we’re not here to talk about me.’ Kurt tried to control the colour flooding his cheeks. ‘We’re here for Kitty.’

A slow, knowing smile spread across Sebastian’s face. Kurt hated that Sebastian could still read him, even after all these years. ‘No, you’re not. You’re here for Blaine,’ he said smugly.

Kurt arched a brow. He wasn't about to give Sebastian any more ammunition. ‘We’re here to stop you from taking advantage of another young girl, to stop you from ruining her like you tried to ruin Rachel.’

‘Kitty’s here because she wants to be.’ Sebastian said glibly, like he didn't care that Kitty was a person with feelings, like it didn't matter that he was trying to use her in the worst way and then throw her away.

Kurt struggled to contain the rage that twisted in his stomach. ‘Kitty’s here because you’ve fed her a pack of lies! She thinks this is her big break! She thinks you’re her _friend!’_

‘I admit it might not be exactly the work she’s expecting. And she doesn’t know I’m the agent she’s here to see. But there _is_ work, Kurt.’ He smiled that slow, cruel smile again. ‘If she’s naïve enough to expect to climb the ladder without putting in the work… doing certain _jobs…’_ he smirked at Kurt, ‘then it’s her own stupid fault. She should have read the contract properly before she signed it. You know, the _contract,_ Kurt… The legally binding document with her signature on it. The one that says I can sue her for all she's worth if she breaks it. You know, it's amazing how intimidating legal terminology can be. That alone can be very persuasive in convincing wannabe starts to be more, shall we say, _flexible_ in their approach to work.’ Sebastian’s eyes were alight with triumph.

'Ah yes, the contract with the agency. The agency that I'd be willing to bet has you as its founder, CEO and sole employee?'

Sebastian grinned. 'Not bad, Princess. Shame for Kitty that she's not such a quick study.'

Kurt felt sick. ‘So you admit that you lied to her about the nature of the work you’ve signed her up for?’

Sebastian spread his hand on his chest, over his heart. ‘'Lied' is such a strong word, Kurt…’ He chuckled mirthlessly. ‘But it’s possible I omitted some minor details… In my defence, she didn’t ask. She was probably too wasted…’

Kurt suppressed a shudder of revulsion. ‘How often do you do this, Bas? Manipulate girls, get them to sign shady contracts… Extort photos and all sorts out of them…’

Sebastian grinned even more widely. It was ruthless and shark-like. ‘It’s a living…’

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach churning. _God…_ To just write off people’s feelings, people’s lives like that – like they meant nothing. He’d hoped to reason with Sebastian, but he didn’t seem capable of feeling human emotions at all any more.

Kurt reached for his messenger bag, pulling out a small sheaf of papers. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen… I have an addendum drawn up, officially ending that contract you have with Kitty. You’re going to sign it. I also have an official contract here for Kitty, for ad hoc work with my real agent. You’re going to persuade her to go to a meeting with my agent tomorrow so they can sign it.’ His agent hadn’t been pleased about agreeing to sign a contract on their first meeting, but Kurt was one of his biggest successes and had threatened to find another agent. Kurt had even played his June Dolloway card. He fervently hoped Kitty would go for this. He’d had to pull in just about every outstanding favour anyone owed him to get it. 

‘And why would I ever agree to that?’ Sebastian drawled, smugly. ‘Little blonde cheerleader types are worth a _fortune._ Going to off-set my losses another way, Hummel?’ He drew a finger down Kurt’s arm, and Kurt set his jaw, fighting the urge to recoil. He would not show weakness in front of this creature that used to be Sebastian. 

‘Because if you don’t...’ Santana stepped forwards, 'A signed statement from the three of us - two highly respected Broadway stars and a lawyer - detailing everything we've seen here and everything we know about you... will find its way to the media… The police… Your father.’ She lowered her voice menacingly. ‘If we ever hear of you pulling anything like this again we will find you. Anywhere you try to go, I will find you, and I will end you. Believe me.’ 

It took Sebastian several seconds to truly comprehend he had lost, his face slowly sinking until he was slack-jawed and wide-eyed. ‘But…’ He spluttered. ‘I have a guy who’s expecting her today! I can’t show up without a girl!’

‘Not my problem.’ Kurt shook his head. 

‘Kurt, come on, I owe him money! He’s not a nice guy, Kurt, he’ll hurt me!’ Sebastian wrung his hands, turning from smugly cruel to pathetic on a dime.

Kurt sighed. ‘How much do you owe him?’

‘A grand.’

Kurt exhaled sharply. ‘I’ll give it to you.’

‘Kurt, you can’t!’ Santana sounded shocked. 

‘I don’t want him to lose any fingers!’ Kurt turned back to Sebastian. ‘I’ll give you the cash. On one condition…’

‘What?’ 

Kurt swallowed, making sure his voice was completely under control. ‘You’re going to leave Blaine alone. Blaine and all his friends and family.’ 

Sebastian stared at him. ‘God. You _love_ him…’ His face twisted up in distaste.

Kurt kept his returning gaze steady. ‘Do we have a deal?’ He was grateful he’d had the foresight to bring cash with him. He’d expected this to happen.

Sebastian nodded jerkily. ‘We do.’

Kurt drew an envelope out of his inside pocket and unfolded some bills, waving them at Sebastian who eyed them hungrily. ‘After Kitty’s signed the new contract. Okay?’

Sebastian huffed and rolled his eyes.

Kurt knew he shouldn’t go there, that it wouldn’t help, but he couldn’t stop himself. ‘Sebastian… Why do you do this? What did I ever do to you?’

Sebastian choked out a laugh, then spat out, ‘You have everything. The career, the money, the life that should have been mine. And all because you got lucky to be born to a dad who loved you. You’re not any better than me, you didn’t deserve it more than I did. But you got it. And you were still such a stuck up, prissy little bitch. You have everything that should have been mine, and you’re not even _grateful…’_

Kurt looked at him for a second and shook his head. ‘That’s just an excuse. And a pathetic one, at that. You feel like the world owes you a living – owes you a life. Newsflash - it doesn’t. Yes, I was incredibly lucky to have a dad that loved me like that, but he loved you too. And so did I. You had a family, Bas. Maybe not the one you were born into, but one that loved you all the same. You had the chance to go to college, the chance to be onstage. You had all the opportunities I had, Bas, but you didn’t want to work for it. You wanted it all handed to you while you partied your life away. You blew it. And I will not stand by and allow you to take anyone else down with you.’ Kurt turned to Elliott. ‘Will you go and get Kitty, please?’

It finally seemed to hit Sebastian that his plans had all been spoilt and he darted forward with an inhuman growling noise, beer bottle raised in the air. Kurt had lived in New York for a long time, and had taken many self defence classes with Rachel, so as soon as he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye he reared backwards, grabbing Sebastian's wrists and twisting them up over his head so Seb was pinned, panting against the wall. Kurt held him tighter, forcing him to drop the bottle, which rolled off out of sight beneath a pile of junk. Sebastian's face was white with livid spots of red at his cheekbones, his eyes burning with rage as he hissed, ‘I will take you down, you self-righteous, entitled bastard, if it’s the last thing I do.’

Kurt felt shock reverberate through him at the hatred in Sebastian’s eyes. There was nothing left there of the boy he used to know, just a soul twisted beyond recognition by bitterness and anger. He gripped his wrists firmly and said, clearly into his ear, ‘Sebastian… You could try for the rest of your life. Maybe you’d even succeed in getting me off-stage. Maybe you’d somehow manage to ruin my reputation. But my friends? They know me. And they love me. So you’ll never win, Sebastian, because I’ll always have them. And you’ll always be alone in every way that counts.’

Elliott appeared then, with a very bedraggled, hung-over Kitty in tow. Kurt released Sebastian immediately, filled with relief when Seb at least played the game and put on a forced, bright voice, telling her that Kurt had a better deal for her. Kurt was shocked at how quickly she accepted the change - possibly she knew, deep down, something wasn't right. He felt light-headed when she signed the contract dissolution paperwork. She could have been in really serious trouble, with Sebastian. He was going to take her back home with him and put her up for the night. He thought she would benefit from a talk with Rachel, and then she was going to need to meet his agent first thing the next morning before he got her on a flight back to Ohio. Back to Blaine. Something bittersweet jolted through his stomach at the thought of Blaine. He shoved the thought aside. He couldn't lose focus now.

‘Where’s Kitty’s phone?’ He asked Sebastian, once she’d gone to get her stuff. 

‘She lost it…’ Sebastian turned up his nose sulkily.

Kurt held the money up in front of his face, just out of reach. ‘Where is it?’ He repeated, firmly.

Sebastian sighed deeply and rummaged in a ratty old rucksack, producing the phone from its depths. Kurt was pleased to see it only needed a standard charger, so he could get Kitty back in touch with Blaine that afternoon. 

Sebastian deposited the phone in Kurt’s outstretched hand like he was handling toxic waste, then snatched the money from Kurt’s other hand, before striding to what Kurt assumed was the bathroom, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls shook. Kurt let out a deep, shaky breath. It was over.

When Kitty was ready, Elliott ushered her outside, followed by Santana. 

‘Goodbye, Sebastian.’ Kurt whispered, looking around the sad, musty room one last time. 

Back on the street, they hailed a cab to take them to a restaurant since Kurt was sure Kitty couldn’t have eaten properly in a few days, and he figured lunch was the very least he owed Santana and Elliott. Santana held him back, putting her hand on his arm and whispering, ‘Proud of you in there, Hummel. I always knew you were a badass bitch.'

Kurt huffed out a laugh. 'Thanks, San.' 

She quirked her lips. 'So. Blaine, huh?’

Kurt swallowed thickly. ‘Yeah. Blaine.’

‘That’s who this has all been for?’

‘Yeah.’ 

‘He’s your boyfriend?’

He met her gaze. ‘No.’

Santana studied his face before pulling him into a one-armed hug. She was more astute than people gave her credit for. ‘You’re a good person.’

‘You, too.’

She smiled at him. ‘Don’t you dare tell anyone. Now, Hummelina, you owe me the largest drink on the menu, somewhere _very_ expensive.’

Kurt laughed. ‘I really do.’

*

Blaine finished up the piano lesson he’d been giving to Grayson, a sweet kid he’d been tutoring for several months. He waved him off, then let his head sink into his hands. He felt like he hadn’t slept in a month. He considered getting an energy drink from somewhere. He wanted to call all Kitty's friends again. He hated feeling so helpless.

Suddenly his phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he felt the familiar stab of nerves through his chest. 

His heart started hammering as he saw the message was from Kitty. Thumbing over the screen, he read it in full…

**15.07pm**  
**From Kitty**  
_Flying home tomorrow after meeting with my new agent!!! Phone was lost but found now. Just gotten your hundreds of texts. Literally hundreds, Blaine. WTF. Your crazy is showing, you might want to tuck it back into your super-tight pants and have a little faith in me, Grandpa. See you tomorrow. x_

It was followed up quickly by a photo of Kitty in a restaurant about to bite into the biggest burger he’d ever seen. She wasn’t taking the picture – maybe Sebastian was taking it, since he wasn’t visible in the shot. 

It didn’t matter. He slumped over the piano in relief, the iron band of worry around his ribs loosening for the first time in days. Kitty was coming home.


	25. Twenty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part of this chapter isn't based on any part of P&P, but I wanted Blaine to get some insight into why Kurt becomes more withdrawn when he's back in Ohio, to round him out a little (in a more orthodox P&P AU this could probably have been achieved over a couple of games of whist, but times ain't what they used to be), so forgive me my tangent, there. 
> 
> Just a couple more chapters to go after this, and an epilogue. Thanks so much for sticking with me!

Kurt watched the cab make its way down the street, waiting until he couldn’t see Rachel’s dark head and Kitty’s blonde ponytail bent together through the rear window any longer. The meeting between Kitty and Kurt’s agent, Marcus, had gone better than he could have hoped. Marcus had been relieved to find that Kitty was beautiful and could sing and act, so he wasn’t going to find it too difficult to find work for her. Kurt made a mental note to send him baskets and baskets of fruit, flowers, muffins, puppies – anything that came in a basket, really – to thank him for being so understanding, and for coming out to Kurt’s apartment on a Saturday morning. He must have thought Kurt had lost his mind when he’d had been setting it up, but it had all worked out perfectly. Kurt chewed on his lower lip. He didn’t always judge these things right, but he was hopeful they’d managed to extricate Kitty from a bad situation as painlessly as possible for everyone concerned.

After they’d finished their food the previous afternoon, Santana had left to catch her train back to Britt, saying something about scissoring that Kurt had tried desperately to un-hear. Kitty was vastly revived by a couple of advil, a huge burger and a small bucket of coca cola, which suggested she was mostly just hung-over and dehydrated, much to Kurt’s relief. 

Kurt was grateful when Elliott decided to come back to the apartment with them, since he wasn’t sure Kitty trusted him at all. She hadn’t spoken much about her time with Sebastian, and Kurt had been careful not to push too much on the subject. It seemed like they had only been in the city for the one night, and she mentioned they had gone out and partied together, but nothing more than that. Kurt had no idea what story Seb might have told her to explain the grotty bed-sit. He hoped she might be more forthcoming with Rachel.

Back at the apartment Kitty disappeared into the shower, and Kurt filled Rachel in on what had happened, helped by Elliott. 

‘Honestly, Rach, he was just… _sad._ And desperate. The so-called contract was nothing but a bullshit thing he’d doctored from some template online, just to try to make the whole thing seem legit. You can see the website name on the paper. He can’t have ever let her look at it closely. He didn’t even spell her name right. I can only assume Kitty was drunk when she signed it so she didn’t notice.’ Kurt wrapped his fingers around his mug, trying to get some warmth into his cold hands. ‘I bet just the threat of it has been enough to scare the shit out of girls in the past. If I’d realised what a piece of garbage it was I wouldn’t have been half so worried about it, but I didn’t want to risk him still having anything against her when these days a signature on a napkin is enough to get you sued.’ Kurt’s head had started to ache, and he was looking forward to a long shower in the hottest water he could stand. He couldn’t wait to wash the feel of Sebastian off of his skin. 

Elliott shook his head. ‘It was creepy shit, man. He was isolating her from everyone, making it so she was completely reliant on him. I think we got her out before anything bad went down. She’s a lucky kid.’

Rachel shivered, turning wide eyes on Kurt. ‘But why did you give him all that money?’

He shrugged. ‘I thought he might be more co-operative if he got paid. Please don’t tell Kitty I gave him money? This isn’t about her feeling bad about herself, or indebted to me. She’s not wrong for falling for his act, just young. I want her to be able to move on with her life now. I don't want anyone but us to ever know I was part of this.’

Rachel and Elliott exchanged uncertain glances. 'I guess it's not really our place to say otherwise,' Rachel said. 'If you want us to keep it quiet then we can.' 

Kurt nodded. ‘And the money… Call it closure, I guess. I can’t control what anyone else does. I’ve finally learned that. All I can do is make sure I’m happy with my own actions, and that my conscience is clear. Sebastian is… He’s not the boy I knew. But the boy he used to be is in there somewhere, and he’s... He’s in here.’ Kurt laid his hand on his chest. ‘He was my brother. I know my dad wouldn’t want me to send him out into the world knowing he would for sure get hurt, no matter what awful, idiotic shit he got himself into. I just thought... what would make my dad proud, you know? Whatever Bas does now is up to him. I’m not under any illusions about who he is now, but if he blows it all on booze or drugs, that’s on him.’

Elliott snorted. ‘I doubt he’ll get much chance. Santana was livid after that little stunt he pulled with the bottle, and you know Dani's wife works for the police now? My guess is the guy will be in a police cell by morning, one way or another.’

Kurt’s eyes widened. ‘You think?’ He exhaled, long and low. ‘You know what, maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing for him. He’s a danger to himself as well as everyone else right now. Maybe he’d get help. At least I can wash my hands of it now, no guilt. I’m free of him. And more importantly, so is Kitty.’

After her shower, Kitty and Rachel had disappeared into Rachel’s room for several hours under the pretext of Kitty raiding Rachel’s closet. Rachel was hopeful Kitty would confide in her about Sebastian. Kitty had insisted she was fine – had even wanted them to take her out dancing - but both Kurt and Rachel wanted to make sure she wasn’t just putting on a tough front. Kurt had stayed mostly quiet around her, trying to project an air of calm reassurance. Secretly he had to admit to himself that he also hadn’t wanted to miss any mention she might make of Blaine, listening with baited breath like an infatuated teenager. 

In the end he’d fallen asleep on the sofa in front of re-runs of Gilmore Girls, and awoken the next morning to hot coffee and a blanket over his shoulders – a silent gesture of thanks from Kitty, who gave him a soft smile before immediately retreating behind her snarky attitude.

Rachel had assured him, while Kitty was packing, that all Sebastian had managed to do was take her out and get her wasted. They’d stumbled back to the bed-sit in the small hours of the morning, where Kitty had promptly passed out, and slept soundly until Elliott awoke her several hours later. Kurt breathed out a sigh of relief. He could send Kitty home to Blaine knowing everything was okay. 

The cab disappeared around the corner. He went down the block a little and bought himself a chocolate croissant from his favorite bakery. He was tempted to indulge in a couple of hours of quiet time, to try to process some of the emotional roller-coaster of the last week, but he knew there was another very important thing he had to do – another mistake he had to fix. 

Back in his apartment he made himself a mug of tea and laid the croissant out on one of his fancy plates, leaving it in the kitchen. It would either be a good reward for facing up to this at last, or useful comfort food to indulge in if it all hit the fan. 

He flipped open his laptop, clicking open his calendar to check what the time would be in LA about now. Just about 9am - perfect. He startled when he saw the date coming up in a couple of days. _Fuck._ How could he have forgotten? He shook himself. He couldn’t think about this now.

He squared his shoulders, and clicked on Mercedes’ picture. 

‘Hey, Boo!’ 

Kurt couldn’t help but smile when Mercedes’ face filled the screen, beaming and back-lit by beautiful sunshine. Kurt was sure he could see leafy palm fronds in the corner behind her. 

‘Hey, ‘Cedes…’

She either saw something in his face or heard it in his voice, because she grew serious immediately. ‘Kurt, what’s wrong? Is it about this week? Are you going back to Lima this time?’

‘Uh, no. It’s something else, actually. ‘Cedes, I have a confession to make. I’ve… made some bad decisions, based on mistaken assumptions. I’ve been really, really wrong about something, and I just hope you’ll understand that I did it because I was trying to look out for you…’

Mercedes furrowed her brow. ‘Honey you’d better talk fast because you’ve got me really worried…’

He cleared his throat. ‘Okay. Well, it’s about Sam.’

*

The doorbell trilled through the house, making Blaine jump. He listened to see if anyone else was going to get it, then realised that almost certainly no-one would when he caught sight of the time. Who on earth would be dropping by at 9.30 on a Monday morning? The doorbell rang again insistently and he sighed. He had been out for a run already and was just about finished getting dressed after his shower, so he was almost certainly the most ready of all of them, except Tina who would already be at work. 'It's uncivilised, is what it is...' he muttered to himself as he made his way to the door.

He pulled it open, expecting the mailman or the fed-ex guy (who was actually pretty cute in his little blue shorts and wouldn’t be the worst person in the world to see first thing on a Monday morning), feeling his eyes go big and round when he saw Mercedes and Kurt standing on the step.

‘You’re not the fed-ex guy,’ he said, cleverly, then immediately mentally face-palmed himself.

Mercedes laughed. ‘No, but I do come bearing gifts!’ She produced several paper gift bags from an expensive local chocolatier. ‘By way of apology for not having been in touch for so long.’ She phrased it as a question, the intonation at the end uncertain but hopeful.

‘Oh. You didn’t need to do that, but thank you. It’s so good to see you, come on in.’ He stepped back, just about managing to stop himself from wrapping himself around Kurt like a koala around a tree, even though Kurt was _right there_ and he smelled really good. Although Kurt hadn’t spoken to him yet. Or at all, come to think of it. 

Mercedes gave him a hug. ‘Sorry to show up unannounced. We were passing by, so we thought we’d try and see if we’d be lucky enough to catch you.’

‘Oh, no, lucky us, for sure.’ Blaine grinned at her. ‘Can I get you some coffee?’

He left Kurt and Mercedes to get settled on the couch and flicked on the coffee maker. ‘I’ll just go and see who’s around…’ 

He stepped into the hallway and immediately leaned back against the wall, taking deep breaths. 

Okay. So Kurt was in his living room. With no explanation and hardly anything in the way of a greeting. This was fine. Blaine could handle this. Blaine would put on his show face and his jazz hands, and… Wait, no, not the jazz hands. Dial it back a level. Or three. _Oh for god’s sake,_ he told himself, _just go and get Sam before you hyperventilate and pass out in this hallway and Kurt has to sit and watch you breathe into a paper bag all morning._

Luckily Sam was awake and had put jeans on, scrambling into the first clean shirt he could find when Blaine told him Mercedes had dropped by and that Blaine was absolutely not going back out there without him. Lauren padded by on her way to the kitchen, wrapped up in a Star Wars Jedi bathrobe. Kitty would sleep until about noon, he knew, and although Blaine was incredibly relieved and happy to have her home, he wasn’t about to risk his life by waking her. He waited for Sam to run his fingers through his hair and put on some chapstick, before following him out, hanging back a little when Mercedes jumped up and gave Sam a hug so long it verged on epic. 

He ducked back into the kitchen to pour out coffee and set out some milk, concentrating very hard on not falling down, or spilling it, or belying how affected he was by Kurt being there through his traitorous, shaking hands.

Kurt was perched on the window sill, lit up by the morning sun, looking for all the world like he’d just stepped out of some magazine feature on beautiful, mysterious men. He was listening with rapt fascination to something Lauren was saying. ‘... and three minutes in I’m like, ‘Woah, what are you a man or a washing machine?’, so I left, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’ Kurt leaned forward, eyes wide, drawing one foot up onto the window sill and resting his chin on his knee. 

‘But _I_ clearly rocked _his_ world, and now he keeps texting me and sending me all these suggestive emojis.’ Lauren’s nose scrunched. ‘Don't get me wrong, I like a good emoji as much as the next geek chic girl, but I just feel like I want more, you know?’

‘Well, of course! You deserve to be wooed!’ The earnest expression on Kurt’s face made Blaine’s heart miss a beat. He rolled his eyes at himself. Who did that Kurt Hummel think he was, going around being adorable in a guy’s living room at stupid o’clock in the morning?

‘I do! Thank you, Kurt.’ She turned to Blaine triumphantly as he handed Kurt a coffee. ‘You see, Blaine, _Kurt_ understands the fact that _'woman'_ is spelled Z-I-Z-E-S,’ she waved a hand down her body, as sensuously as one can in a fluffy Jedi bathrobe, to emphasise her point, ‘and that a woman, i.e. me, needs to be wooed properly, not with texts full of innuendo and some lame candies that sucked!’

Blaine laughed lightly. ‘Hey, I agree about the wooing, but you can’t say the candies sucked. You ate all those candies, Lauren!’ 

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. ‘Well, I had to make sure they _all_ sucked!’ She checked her watch. ‘I need to get ready to go see a man about his bugging his cheating wife. Good day to you, Kurt.’ She did a twirly bowing motion with her hand, then turned to Blaine and sniffed out _‘Blaine,’_ before sweeping off in the direction of her bedroom with one of the bags of chocolates and a huge mug of coffee.

Kurt turned to him, mouth slightly ajar. ‘Okay, she is officially my new favourite person in the world…’

Blaine smiled, shaking his head. ‘She’s something, that’s for sure.’

Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed across the screen.

‘Hang on, it’s important that I mock Puckerman immediately, if not sooner.’ He typed out something over the screen, muttering _‘three…minutes…’_ under his breath. ‘Sorry about that,’ he looked up at Blaine. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Lauren was a gold mine of hilarious information to use against Puckerman? God, I wish she’d been in high school with us. Imagine if we'd all been in high school together...’ His face grew thoughtful. 'Ah, the life I never lived...'

Blaine glanced over at Mercedes, deep in conversation with Sam. 'Kurt, I just wanted you to know that Kitty came home on Saturday. Turns out she was in New York the whole time. Seb's agent fell through but he managed to put her in touch with someone else before he ditched her. She's got a for-real agent now, with auditions coming up. She's looking at moving there in a few weeks, actually. So it could all have turned out way worse.' 

'That's great. I'm happy for her.' Kurt's face was inscrutable.

'Yeah, she's excited to the point of insufferable. Can't get her to shut up about it - small town girl makes it big in the city and all that... She's already casting the roles in the auto-biographical movie she'll be producing once she's won her second or third oscar. She'll be starring as herself, of course.' Blaine smiled indulgently. 

Kurt nodded slowly. 'I really hope everything works out for her. I'm glad she's okay.'

‘Hey Kurt, we should probably get going if we’re going to make it to lunch with my sister!’ Mercedes called from across the room.

Blaine tried to stop the disappointment that flickered through him from showing on his face. He'd barely even had a chance to talk with Kurt. ‘Are you flying home today?’

Kurt’s head jerked up sharply. ‘No. My understudy’s stepping in for tomorrow, I have a… I have something I need to do.’

‘Oh. Well I guess I’ll be seeing you?’ Blaine tried not to get frustrated, but it felt like yet again Kurt was holding back. If he could just figure out how to get past those walls… 

‘Sure, yeah.’ It seemed like Kurt was avoiding his eyes, and the air between them turned heavy with awkwardness. 

‘Just a sec.’ Blaine went to hug Mercedes goodbye, mostly to have an excuse to hug Kurt too, but by the time he’d turned around Kurt was waiting outside on the path, and then they were both gone as suddenly as they’d arrived.

He exhaled, slowly. Kurt always zigged just as Blaine thought he was about to zag. Exactly how confusing could one guy be? 

He looked over and caught Sam’s eye, noting that he looked just as shaken as Blaine felt. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah. I actually feel much better now I’ve seen her again. All the silence was such a head-fuck. I feel like now I can just concentrate on being her friend, no other complications.’ Sam toyed with his mug, giving away his uncertainty.

‘Right…’ Blaine narrowed his eyes at Sam. ‘Except for the part where you’re completely in love with each other, you mean?’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘I think we’re past all that. It’s way too complicated. We’re better off as friends.’

‘Hmm. We’ll see.’ It seemed to Blaine, if that hug was anything to go by, that all Mercedes wanted was to hang on to Sam and not let go.

What he was much less certain about was how Kurt felt about him.

*

Blaine was on his way out of the door the next morning, about to catch the bus, when he ran into Mercedes on her way in to the house.

‘Hey, Mercedes! Sorry I can’t stay, I’m visiting my parents in Lima.’

‘Oh no worries, Sam was just going to show me some old records he has on vinyl.’ She blushed a little as Blaine raised an eyebrow at her. 

‘Okay,’ he said brightly, ‘well he should be in his room. Will I see you again before you have to fly home?’

‘I think so, yeah. I’m here for a couple more days.’ Her gaze slid involuntarily in the direction of Sam’s door, then she leaned towards him and lowered her voice. ‘Did you say you’re going to Lima?’

‘Yeah. Just about to catch the bus, now.’

Mercedes hesitated, chewing her lip like she was thinking something over.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Blaine was worried by her expression. 

‘Yeah, of course.’ She smiled at him gently.

‘Okay.’ Blaine shouldered his bag and took a step towards the door, but was stilled by Mercedes’ hand on his arm. 

‘Do you know Memorial Park Cemetery?’

Blaine was thrown. ‘In Lima? Yeah, I know it. It's not too far from my folks' place.’

‘Could you be there at about noon today?’

‘Um…’ Blaine scrunched his face up, figuring out bus routes in his head. ‘Yeah. I think my bus stops near there. I could go there before I see my mom. Why, do you need something?’

Mercedes lowered her voice. ‘Kurt’s there.’

‘He is?’

‘He will be. He said he was driving over after his meeting finished this morning. I think… that he could use a friend. I worry about him.’ She bit her lip as she looked at him.

Blaine blinked in surprise. ‘Oh. Okay. Of course. I’ll try to find him, if you don’t think he’d mind. If he gets mad, though, I’m blaming you entirely.’

‘Ah that’s okay, he owes me one.’ She laughed. ‘Thank you.’ She said, squeezing his arm before going to find Sam, leaving Blaine to walk to catch his bus, deep in thought. 

*

He had been right – his bus stopped just a couple of minutes from the cemetery. All he had to do was get back on the same bus route to get to his mom’s place. No big deal if Kurt wasn’t there. Or if Kurt didn’t want to see him. Which was completely possible because this was such a private thing, and oh god what was he even doing here?

He whistled out slowly at how large the park was; acres of perfectly kept lawns spread out expansively before him. Mercedes had texted him to let him know to head to the left once he was in through the gates, so he decided to walk for a little bit and see if he stumbled across Kurt. And if he didn’t, well, it just wasn’t meant to be. He’d get back on the bus and carry on his way. Maybe he should use it as a metaphor for his life, too.

Blaine wandered down the manicured paths carefully, because hurrying seemed disrespectful, somehow. The sun was warm on his back, and the park was lushly green and peaceful. It was sort of lovely, actually. He had been walking for a few minutes when he spotted Kurt’s tall, solitary figure standing near a plot, head bent and shoulders hunched, and nerves spiked in Blaine's stomach.

Blaine made sure to crunch the gravel under his feet as he approached – he wanted Kurt to know he was there, but he didn’t want to startle him by calling out. Kurt turned his head slightly, and Blaine's heart broke a little at his drawn face and wet eyes. Blaine got closer slowly, wanting to give Kurt the chance to tell him to get lost, if he wanted to. Kurt watched him for a second, and Blaine could see the muscles of his throat working under his pale, perfect skin. Then he looked back down at the headstone at his feet. 

‘My mom,’ he whispered, when Blaine got close enough, touching the rough top edge of it. ‘And my dad.’

Blaine looked down at the names. Kurt’s parents, together for always, etched into the stone. A fresh bunch of daffodils and irises lay propped up against it, brightly cheerful against the white stone.

‘It’s the, um, anniversary of my dad’s death. I haven’t been back here since the funeral. This is the first time.’ Kurt’s voice wobbled and Blaine ached to reach for him. He wanted to wrap Kurt up in his arms, and keep him from falling apart. He wanted to kiss him and whisper words of endearment into his skin so he wouldn’t look so terribly, terribly alone. 

He didn’t dare to try either of those things. Instead he extended his hand to Kurt, holding his breath as Kurt hesitated for a beat before deciding to take it. He grasped Kurt’s hand firmly, keeping a carefully respectful distance between them. They stood for a long time in silence, Kurt looking down at the words that were all that was left of the lives of both his parents, except for Kurt himself. Blaine thought about his own parents, flawed though they may be, and about Cooper, Maria, and Katie. His family. He couldn't imagine being as alone in the world as Kurt had been - and to have the boy he'd loved like a brother turn his back on him by choice... It was too painful to think about what that must have felt like. Blaine didn’t have any words of wisdom for Kurt, no insightful anecdotes or inspirational quotes. All he could offer was the scant comfort of himself.

Eventually Kurt turned to walk. He kept hold of Blaine’s hand, so Blaine followed, keeping a gentle but firm pressure on Kurt’s hand so he would know he was there with him, that he _wanted_ to be there. They walked down a long length of gravel path together, headed towards a different part of the cemetery. 

Blaine wondered where they were going, but he didn’t ask. Kurt didn’t seem to want to talk, and that was just fine with Blaine. He got his answer soon enough when they came to a halt at another plot. The stone looked newer, and more regularly maintained, the posy of roses that was already there just starting to curl up at the tips of the petals. Blaine recognised the name: Finn Hudson. The dates of his birth and death looked absurdly close together. Seeing both of Kurt’s parents on the same headstone, with him standing there before them, had been poignant and painful, and now this... this was a different kind of tragedy. Blaine felt his stomach drop. No wonder Kurt hadn’t been able to face coming back here. No wonder he struggled coming back to Lima, period.

He tried to think of something to say but everything felt trite or puerile on his tongue, so he bit the words back and just kept holding Kurt’s hand. He wasn’t sure whether it was more comforting for Kurt or for himself, now. Kurt laid another small bunch of irises and daffodils down, and then picked a small, smooth stone up from the ground and set it on top of the headstone.

‘For Rachel.’

They stood together for a long time. The park was silent except for bird song, and the low hum of traffic from the road a ways away. Blaine kept sneaking little looks at Kurt, feeling privileged to be allowed to see this immensely private facet of him. This was Kurt, the man who'd been forced to grow up far too young and who hadn't always made the right calls, but had tried to. Kurt, who was so strong even when he was vulnerable. To go through this and still go out into the world, living his dreams in honor of the people he'd lost... Blaine ran a tentative thumb over Kurt's knuckles, wanting to express some of the tenderness he felt. Kurt's hand was soft and manicured, but large and masculine, and Blaine realised he didn’t ever want to let it go, that this was the hand he wanted to hold forever - because... Because he _loved_ Kurt. His breath caught in his throat. He was grateful that their silent contemplation meant he could keep his sudden realisation to himself. He was over-whelmed and excited, and scared, and also of the sort of impetuous nature that meant he was prone to burst into song to express his more passionate emotions, and this was definitely not the time or place. God knows, the GAP had been bad enough.

Eventually Kurt spoke. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘Mercedes. She knew I was in Lima visiting my parents today. She thought you could use a friend. I hope it was okay that I came.' Blaine sucked his lower lip in through his teeth, nervous that it simply might not have occurred to Kurt to be angry about the intrusion until now.

Kurt considered this for a second before he reached over with his free hand and covered their clasped hands with it. ‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’ _Always._

Kurt cleared his throat. ‘Do you need a ride back to your parents? I have a hire car.’

‘Um, yeah. That would actually be really good, if you don't mind.'

Kurt dropped his hand as they made their way to the lot. Blaine missed the weight of it immediately; the rightness. Blaine thought maybe he saw a hint of regret in Kurt's face, too. 

As he was getting settled in the car, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he let out a soft, delighted laugh when he found it was a Facebook notification: ‘Mercedes Jones and Sam Evans Are In A Relationship'. It was followed immediately by a photo of Mercedes, lit up with laughter as Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek.

He showed Kurt, warming at how genuine Kurt's smile was. ‘I spoke with ‘Cedes,' he said. 'Told her how I’d messed it up for her and Sam. I’m so glad they’ve sorted it out.’

‘Thank you.’ Blaine reached over the center console to take Kurt’s hand again, lacing their fingers together, and they stayed like that for the short journey to Blaine’s parents’ place. 

He wanted to say something to Kurt. Ask him where he stood, maybe. But it felt wrong to bring it up today, when Kurt was already going through so much, so he bit his tongue, even through their farewell, which was weirdly stilted after the intimacy of the past hour. Mostly Blaine was trying not to think too much about Kurt flying away the next day - and anyway, Blaine didn't have the first idea how to say goodbye to a man he didn't ever want to say goodbye to. As he jogged up the stairs to his parents' apartment he resolved to hug both of his parents tightly, and be grateful that he had them. He could figure things out with Kurt over time. Right now it was enough that Sam was happy.


	26. Twenty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe this is nearly finished!
> 
> It's all written so I should be posting it over the next few days hopefully.
> 
> Thanks as always for your support which means so much. x

Blaine sighed as the last few notes of _Feel My Love_ played out from his speakers. Another amazing anthem for the broken-hearted. Not that his heart was broken, exactly, just a little bruised and lonely from several days without hearing from Kurt at all after their visit to the cemetery. He wasn’t wallowing, he was just getting the sadness out of his system. Through pouting and maybe a little bit of sulking, to a backdrop of torch songs. He was _fine,_ though.

He yelped as strong hands span his desk chair around to face his bed, and he was confronted by a concerned Sam and a stern-looking Kitty. 

‘Blaine… you’ve been playing non-stop Adele for, like, five days now. That’s a lot, dude. Even for you.’ Sam's tone was serious and Blaine winced. If he wasn’t kicking off with an impression then Blaine must be in trouble.

‘Yeah, if playing _Someone Like You_ nine consecutive times isn’t a big gay cry for help I don’t know what is.’ Kitty sat back, leaning her weight on her arms.

‘I don’t think it was nine times…’ Blaine folded his arms over his chest and pouted. It hadn’t been nine times in a row, had it? She was exaggerating for dramatic effect, surely? Oh god, _had_ it been nine times in a row? 

‘We were taking bets, Blaine. For money. Believe me, I counted carefully.’ Kitty arched an eyebrow. ‘You stopped long enough to play some depressing James Blunt, and then you went right back to Adele. So what gives?’

Blaine sighed. He didn’t want to talk to them about Kurt. He felt like they just wouldn’t understand how special Kurt had become to him – and what would talking about it achieve in any case?

He held his hands up in defeat. ‘I’m fine. A little low, I’ll admit. Probably just the post-graduation blues.’

‘Freaking out about the great wide beyond?’ Kitty’s expression turned smug and Blaine braced himself for yet another ‘Kitty as a Professional Creative in New York’ story.

‘Yeah. Something like that.’ He forced a smile. 

‘Well, it must be intimidating for you to be in such close proximity to our dazzling success stories.’ Kitty smirked at him.

Blaine immediately felt bad at the look of guilt that flashed over Sam’s face, and he leaned over to put his hand reassuringly on Sam’s shoulder. ‘Hey, no, that’s not it. I honestly could not be more thrilled about you going on tour with Mercedes, I promise. I’m so happy for you my face actually hurts from smiling.’ Sam had been so ebullient about Mercedes’ offer to join her band to play guitar while she toured he’d been lit up like a supernova all week. Blaine couldn’t think of anyone who deserved to be happy more than Sam. It was just that he was going to miss him. It was the end of an era. 

There was an annoyed huff from out of his eye-line, so he added, ‘And you, too, Kitty, of course. And of course I want to hear about your new roommate who has a part in Cats and has all the gossip about who stuffs the crotch of their furry leggings, I just think I might need a fortifying drink first…’

Sam’s phone buzzed with an incoming call and he ducked out to answer it. Blaine had to admit that he did get a little pang of envy when he realised it was Mercedes. He was happy for Sam, but it would be nice to have a boyfriend of his own to call him and make him smile like Sam was smiling these days. 

‘So your new digs are good to go in t minus seven days, right?’ He turned to Kitty. ‘Are you nervous about it?’

‘No,’ she said flippantly. ‘Marcus – that’s my agent – thinks it’s very likely that I won’t have any trouble finding work. And if I do, well, I’ll just call Kurt and get him to make good on his promise to get me into the chorus of Peter Pan.’

‘Wait, what promise was this?’ Blaine racked his brain for when Kitty would have spoken to Kurt since he’d left Ohio last winter. 

Kitty flushed and shifted uncomfortably. ‘Oh, I just talked to him about it when he was here last week with Mercedes.’

Blaine frowned. ‘No, you didn’t. You didn’t see him at all last week, you were sleeping.’ Why would Kitty lie?

She shrugged infuriatingly. ‘Must have been some other time, then.’

‘Kitty…’ He grabbed her hands and gazed at her imploringly. ‘When?’

She frowned. ‘Okay, fine. Although I don’t see why it matters to you at all, but whatever. When Sebastian took me to New York, he got wasted and flaked out on me. Then Kurt showed up with a couple of friends and they took me back to his place. Marcus is actually Kurt’s agent – he arranged a meeting for us. And the rest is what will soon become glittering showbiz history.’

‘Kurt was there?’ Blaine was reeling. ‘But you said Seb came through for you? I don’t understand…’

‘I know, I know. I said Seb hooked me up like he’d promised and then ditched me.’ She looked guilty. ‘I may have been a little economical with the truth.’ She bit her lip and lowered her voice. ‘Honestly, B… I think Kurt got me out of a pretty bad situation. But he made me promise not to tell, so please don’t tell him you know. Please?’

‘I…’ Blaine couldn’t believe it. All this time, Kitty had known that Kurt was actually some sort of real life superhero, and she’d never said a word. And Kurt had never let on either. Why wouldn’t he want Blaine to know? Surely if he were interested in Blaine, as Blaine allowed himself to hope in his more optimistic moments, he would be wanting to impress Blaine as much as possible. And Kitty actually had been in trouble with Seb, but hadn't told him?

 _‘Jesus fuck,_ Kitty…’ Blaine rubbed his hand over his eyes. 

‘You don’t need to give me the lecture okay, I already got that from Rachel. Well, that and these fantastic Manolo Blahniks that she said Kurt got for her while he was interning for Vogue but she never wears because of her instep-‘

‘Hey, did Kurt say why he wanted you to keep it secret?’ Blaine interrupted, struggling to untangle it all. 

‘No,’ Kitty shrugged. ‘I just figured he’s private and, you know, weird, so…’

‘You can’t say that about him, he saved you!’

‘Ehh, I would have saved myself. He just showed up before I got the chance to. Anyway, I gotta run, I have a potential buyer for my dresser coming over. On the phone he sounded young and he sounded cute, so I’m thinking I can hustle him for an extra twenty bucks. Now, you…’ She pointed at Blaine, glaring. ‘No. More. Adele.’

‘Alright, I promise. And unlike some people around here I actually keep my promises!’ Blaine teased.

Kitty snorted and gave Blaine the finger as she exited the room, singing out ‘Bite me!’ as she went down the hall.

Blaine sighed, turning to grab his wireless headphones and selecting _Not As We_ by Alanis Morissette, because it was an awesome song and not depressing at all. Well maybe a little bit. Anyway. 

He sat back, drumming his fingers on his desk as he thought about Kitty’s slip. So Kurt had been the one to help her. But why had he made her promise to keep it secret? 

‘A man wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma…’ he murmured aloud. 

He might love Kurt Hummel, but he certainly didn’t understand him. 

*

A few days later, Blaine and all his house-mates were having dinner together. Blaine had been feeling unsettled by all the changes that seemed to be gathering momentum faster than he could keep track of them, hurtling him into a whole new life that he couldn’t even start to envision yet. Tina had been the one to suggest a family dinner, just like old times, and now everyone was perched around the kitchen while Blaine grilled steaks and Tina swatted Sam when he tried to drink ketchup straight from the bottle, and it was silly and familiar and just skating around the edge of bittersweet.

Blaine hardly heard the doorbell buzz, but turned when Tina looked out of the window and let out a squeal. ‘Oh my god! The biggest limo I’ve ever seen has pulled up outside! Is it someone famous? Sam, could it be Mercedes?’

Sam shook his head. ‘Nah, she’s back in LA now, we face-timed earlier.’ He crossed the room and peered out of the window curiously. ‘No idea who that is.’

Tina opened the door to a liveried man with a hat on, who inclined his head and asked if Blaine Anderson was home. 

‘Yeah, he’s right through there…’ Tina gestured back into the house where Blaine was standing, bewildered in the kitchen doorway.

The uniformed guy stepped back to allow someone else through. Blaine’s jaw hung ajar when he realised it was June Dolloway.

She came to a halt in the middle of the living room, resplendent in a glittering designer gown with a white fur stole, and Blaine wondered if this might be the most surreal moment of his life so far.

He hastily removed his gaudy, rainbow striped apron, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to the universe that he wasn’t wearing the one Lauren had bought with the semi-nude man on the front, and wiped his hands before offering one to June. ‘Ms Dolloway, what an unexpected pleasure!’

She looked down at his hand like he’d offered her a plate of raw offal, and sniffed, looking over at Sam down the bridge of her nose. ‘That, I suppose, is your roommate?’

‘Um, yes, this is Sam Evans. Sam is going to be going on tour soon to play guitar with Merc-‘

‘And all of those people, too?’ June interrupted, ‘Are _all_ of those people your roommates?’

Blaine blinked. He was tempted to point out they shared a house, not a bed, but bit it back. ‘Yes. These are my friends, Kitty, Lauren and Tina.’

Everyone stared at June in wide-eyed silence as they waited for her next move. 

She cast her eyes around their living room. Blaine could feel the little hairs on the back of his neck prickling defensively in response to the look on her face. It might be small and well-worn, but it was clean and tidy and _theirs._

Eventually she said, ‘Well, well. All you people in this little house. It’s like the YMCA in here.’

Blaine laughed. ‘It’s tiny compared to your house in Destin, of course.’

‘Hmm.’

He couldn’t figure out why she was here, visiting him. She hadn’t seemed to warm to him particularly, during his visit to Destin. In fact he’d rather assumed he wouldn’t be seeing her again, other than big occasions for Thad and Eli, like if they got married, or – oh… Maybe Thad and Eli were why she was here.

He selected his words carefully. ‘Can I ask how Eli and Thad are? I know they were looking forward to your dinner a couple of nights ago.’

‘They were very well, when I saw them.’ She didn’t seem to have anything else to say on the subject.

 _Okay, then..._ Blaine waited uncertainly. 

He cleared his throat. ‘Can I get you a drink, or…?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Is there somewhere we could talk in private?’

‘Sure. We could go out into the backyard?’ If he shut the door it would be more private than anywhere else in the house. He wasn’t completely certain Lauren wouldn’t fly her drone out to spy on them, but it was a risk he would have to take. 

‘Lead the way…’ 

He showed her through to the yard, which was a simple patio and lawn arrangement, with wooden furniture, and they stood facing each other in silence. Blaine decided to wait her out, not inclined to pander to someone who was so clearly determined to be disagreeable.

Eventually she hummed and said archly, ‘I’m sure you’re aware of the reason for my visit?’

He blew out an exasperated chuckle. ‘I’m sorry, I have no idea.’

‘Blaine,’ June suddenly sounded angry, ‘you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere _you_ may choose to be, you will not find _me_ so. My character has always been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, after all. I’m here because of some very worrying rumors I’ve been hearing. I’ve heard, from a very reliable source, that your little friend in there got herself into a very sordid situation a few weeks ago and that Kurt Hummel – _my protégé,_ Kurt Hummel - risked sullying his reputation and his career to help her, and all because he’s in a fool-hardy relationship with you! I’m sure he’d never do anything so stupid, after we’ve worked so hard to get him where he is. But I was in Columbus for a fund-raiser, and I simply had to come and confront you.’

Well that explained the sequins at least, Blaine thought, even if it didn’t explain anything else. He furrowed his brow. ‘I don’t really understand… If you’re so sure it’s impossible, then I don’t understand why you took the trouble to come here at all.’

She pursed her lips. ‘I want you to assure everyone that it isn’t true. Kurt could never be tied down to such a serious commitment, it would be career suicide. Especially if the partner he chose was of questionable moral fibre.’ She flicked her gaze down his body derisively.

Blaine fought to keep his temper. He refused to be drawn into a cat-fight in his own backyard, with an older lady in an evening gown. He had better manners than that, and besides, it was bound to end up on Youtube somehow to haunt him for the rest of his life. He tried to keep his tone even as he said, ‘I haven’t heard any rumors at all. But surely you coming here will just add fuel to the fire, if these rumors do exist?’

 _‘If?_ Ha! Don’t play dumb with me. You probably made them up in the first place to get attention – attention that belongs solely on Kurt and his career!’ She huffed. ‘Look at you here, stuck here in this tiny house. It’s clear to me that you’d be using him. I have a very discerning and tasteful eye for the extraordinary and I’ve had a good feeling about Kurt since the moment I saw him. I will not stand by and see him exploited! You don’t become a legend in your own lifetime by letting other people stand on your shoulders.’

Blaine gritted his teeth, irritation flaring in his gut. ‘I’m not using anyone, I assure you.’

June all but stomped her foot. ‘I demand to know if you are in a relationship with Kurt!’

Blaine crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling his obstinate side kick in. ‘Well, _you’ve_ said it's impossible, so...’ He knew he probably sounded defensive, or sullen, but he didn’t care.

‘It _should_ be, but you might have used your arts and your, your... allurements to make turn his head and make him forget what he owes to himself, and what he owes to _me._ You might have drawn him in.’ She raised her chin, staring at him accusingly. 

Blaine was shocked to his core. He couldn’t remember anyone ever speaking to him like this before. ‘Allure- _what?_ I... If I had done anything like that I'm pretty sure I wouldn’t be admitting it to you!’

June drew herself up to her full height, which in her heels was just a touch taller than Blaine. 

‘Blaine,’ she said imperiously, ‘do you know who I am? I’m the nearest thing Kurt has to a mother. And as such I’m entitled to know about his private life!’

‘But you are not entitled to know about _mine._ And talking to me like this certainly won’t encourage me to tell you!’ Anger shot through Blaine at June casually casting herself as Kurt’s mother figure, and he wondered if the crux of June's issues was the thought of sharing Kurt's attention, and a fear of Kurt moving beyond her control and influence. 

June exhaled sharply, in frustration. ‘This _can’t_ happen, Blaine. You would be a distraction, you would undermine his career. True artists simply can't be in full-time relationships and commit the time and energy they need to their craft. You've already nearly brought him into a scandal and you've only known him five minutes! You would be his nadir!’ Blaine rolled his eyes a little at the melodrama, which she unfortunately caught sight of, judging by the look on her face. ‘Kurt and I have talked for years of his commitment to me, to his career… to _excellence.’_

Blaine sighed. ‘Well, if that’s the case then you have no reason to suppose he would even want to be in a relationship with me.’

June threw down her hands and let out a bitter laugh. ‘You are a naive, selfish boy. You'll be the ruin of him, and you don’t even care!’

Blaine shook his head in exasperation. ‘Look, surely this is all up to Kurt? If he thought I was worthy enough… If he were to chose me, why shouldn’t I be with him?’

June looked appalled. ‘Because your sense of decency and honor should forbid it! If you stood in the way of a talent such as his, you would be despised among my circle… Censured, slighted… We would never even mention your name!’

Blaine fought back a laugh. As if he could ever care about something like that. ‘That would be a great shame. But I think that anyone in a relationship with Kurt would have more than enough happiness to make it worth it.’

June’s cheeks had flushed a little, the only outward indication of her fury. ‘I am not accustomed to being disobeyed, Blaine!’ Her voice was low and dangerous. 

‘Ms Dolloway…’ Blaine tried to take a more placating tone. ‘I’m a gay man whose father has, uh, traditional values. If I listened to every person who told me I shouldn’t be with the person I wanted to be with, I’d be alone for the rest of my life.’

‘Aha! So you _do_ want to be with Kurt!’ Her eyes glittered with triumph.

 _Damn._ ‘I – my point was general, not specific.’ Blaine felt his own cheeks flood with color. 

June narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I feel sorry for you. You’re completely blind to how far you’re over-stepping, trying to be with a man like Kurt. This life… Your family background…’ She waved a hand at the house behind them. ‘You can’t seriously imagine yourself as equals?’

‘Ms Dolloway, Kurt and I are both good, hard-working people who are looking… for someone to belong to. We _are_ equals. I know that you have objections to me, but surely if Kurt doesn’t share them then they can’t be that important?’

June came to stand squarely before him, the diamonds at her throat sparkling in the sunset. ‘Just tell me, once and for all, are you in a relationship with Kurt?’

Blaine felt cornered. It was with huge reluctance, both at the sentiment and at having to admit it aloud to June, that he ground out, ‘I am not.’

June smiled to herself, clearly pleased. ‘And will you promise me never to enter into any sort of arrangement with him?’

God, this woman was impossible. Blaine shook his head emphatically. ‘I won't make any promise of the kind.’

June’s face hardened. ‘I'm not leaving until you promise me!’ 

‘I will _never_ promise that.’ Blaine suddenly felt completely and utterly drained. He felt like he had been fighting for so long when it came to Kurt – first against him, then for him – he'd be damned if he was going to give in now, to a woman who had almost no bearing on his life at all. ‘Please... you have insulted me, my family, my home, my character. I think it’s best we call this a night, now.’

‘You’re determined to have him, then?’ June’s mouth twisted in displeasure.

‘I didn’t say anything of the sort. Kurt’s a grown man who can make his own decisions. I don’t think he’ll care what the rest of the world thinks. And neither do I. I really think we should end this now.’

June glared at him for several seconds, then turned on her heel and swept out of the house, leaving the front door hanging open. 

Blaine stared after her, agog, until his motor functions kicked in again. He trudged through the house and shut the front door, irritated that June clearly felt so far above him that she wouldn’t even close the door herself. 

He rested his forehead against the door, reassured at its solidity and the protection it would afford him against June and all the other loose cannons out there in the world.

He turned to find the rest of his room-mates eyeing him with unabashed curiosity.

‘Blainey-days…’ Tina looked half worried, half fascinated. ‘What was that about?’

Blaine made up a white lie about one of June’s foundations looking for a music teacher and him having to turn her down. The real topic of their conversation was impossible to acknowledge, and anyway, he could hardly make sense of it himself. He was grateful he wasn’t going to try to be on Broadway himself anymore – he couldn’t help but think he’d made a powerful enemy. But really, he and Kurt were both grown men, and interfering like that in their private lives was way past unacceptable. 

‘You okay, dude?’ Sam bumped his shoulder.

‘Yeah,’ Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I just need a huge steak and an even bigger tequila.’ 

Sam never knowingly missed an opportunity to do his patented tequila dance, complete with air maracas, and soon the easy camaraderie they all shared had Blaine laughing again, determined to forget June Dolloway and her crazy shenanigans and instead enjoy every last minute of being here with his friends.


	27. Twenty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be one chapter but every time I've gone back to do an edit it's felt unwieldy, so I've split it into two (so there's still Part Two and then the Epilogue to go). The second half will be up early next week!

** Part One **

Blaine didn’t move from where he was stretched out on his bed when there was a knock at the door the following Monday. He knew Mercedes was coming over to see Sam, and as happy as he was for them, he didn’t really feel like third wheeling, so he sank back into his book for a bit. Once he was certain their initial reunion would be over he made his way through to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

He huffed out a low noise of frustration when he found that Sam had put all the glasses on the highest shelf again. Blaine was sure he did it on purpose because it entertained him to watch Blaine, Kitty and Tina perform feats of crazy acrobatics to retrieve them. The picture he’d taken of the three of them with Kitty standing on Blaine and Tina’s shoulders (complete with pithy little caption about the ‘mini’ in their mini-human pyramid referring to the humans, as well as the pyramid), had gotten over a hundred likes on Facebook. Blaine muttered unkind things under his breath about Sam and his stupid gangly arms, stretching up onto the tips of his toes to see if he could catch the edge of a glass with his fingertips, but it was just out of reach. He was about to hop up onto the kitchen counter when someone pressed against his side to reach up and catch hold of the glass for him, making him jump.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.’ 

His stomach swooped in a pleasantly painful way when he recognised the voice, light and teasing. He turned to see Kurt leaning back against the kitchen counter, an amused expression settled on his features. His sky-blue shirt made his eyes stand out against his milky skin, and the sleeves were rolled to the elbow, revealing toned, strong forearms. Blaine tried hard not to stare at the pull of the cotton over Kurt’s biceps. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t realised how much he liked a man in a vest until Kurt. But then, maybe it was more to do with the way Kurt wore them. 

‘Kurt? I thought you were back in New York for work?’ Blaine was painfully aware of his own threadbare OSU t-shirt and ratty sweats, his thick-framed glasses and bare feet. 

‘Monday is my day off. I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along with Mercedes?’ Kurt bit his lip uncertainly, holding out the glass.

‘Thank you.’ Blaine took it, frowning a little. ‘Of course not. But… You flew all this way just for the day?’

‘I fly back tomorrow morning,’ Kurt said, like that explained everything.

‘Oh. Okay.’ Blaine was still confused, but he supposed if you had the money and the right kind of schedule then it was possible to commute to New York by air. Why you would want to was another matter. He grabbed the water jug from the fridge and filled the glass, offering it to Kurt who declined. 

He groped for something to say, but his mind was a blank. ‘Um, how are you?’ He finally managed, turning slightly to drain the glass of water to try and fix his cottony mouth.

There was a pause, and he was sure he felt Kurt’s eyes on him while he drank, but when he turned back Kurt was staring steadily out of the window. ‘I’m good. You?’

‘I’m fine. Feeling a little under-dressed, now, but fine.’ Blaine grinned and set the glass in the sink.

Kurt laughed a little and shook his head. ‘No, you look good. I like your glasses.’

Blaine felt heat flood his cheeks and he tugged a hand through his unruly curls. ‘Thank you.’ He rested both hands on the island and decided to bite the bullet, since he didn’t know when he might see Kurt again after this. ‘Kurt, could we maybe talk? If you have time?’

Kurt turned his head towards him, his expression unreadable. ‘Yeah. Yeah, sure.’

‘I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go…’ Blaine gestured down at himself. ‘I feel like I should have socks on at least, if you’re going to be standing there in Tom Ford. Just… Please don’t go anywhere?’

‘I won’t.’ 

‘Help yourself to whatever you want, okay?’

Kurt raised his eyebrows and looked like he was trying not to laugh. ‘Whatever I want?’

Blaine’s cheeks burned even hotter. God, this was the most awkward conversation in the history of the world. It could win actual awards, it was so awkward. ‘Um, yeah, there’s water, juice, tea… I think Tina has some weird herbal green stuff that tastes a lot like grass, if that’s your thing.’

‘Blaine, I’ll be fine. But thank you.’ Kurt's lips quirked and Blaine suppressed the urge to lean over and kiss them.

‘Okay. I’ll just be a minute.’ Blaine backed out of the kitchen and hurried down the hall to his room where he wrenched open his closet door and promptly froze with indecision, staring at all his clothes and wondering why he'd ever thought all these colors were a good idea - why the hell hadn’t he just stuck with simple, easy black? He felt the seconds tick by as he mentally rifled through and rejected most of his closet, because Kurt Hummel was in his kitchen, gorgeous and perfect and waiting for him, and seemingly back in the flirtatious mode which always made Blaine so flustered and then he said all the stupidest things, and if he wanted Kurt to ignore the stupid things he at least needed to dress to make his butt look good…

 _Get it together,_ he told himself. _Kurt Hummel is in your kitchen, waiting for you. Get it together._

‘Ah fuck it,’ he muttered, grabbing a black and white striped polo and wiggling into his favourite red pants. If in doubt, go for familiar, he figured. 

He didn’t put socks on, in the end, but slipped on some loafers before popping in his contacts and running a little bit of product through his hair to tame some of the frizz. He looked at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not perfect, but better. Kurt’s face, one eyebrow attractively arched, flashed into his mind, and on a whim, he brushed his teeth again. Didn’t hurt to be optimistic, even if it was hopelessly so. 

By the time he’d splashed cold water on his face, and run some over his wrists, he felt more in control. 

He made his way down the hall, smiling at the sound of Mercedes and Sam giggling in the living room. 

He tried to damp down the anxiety that bubbled up in his stomach. This was Kurt, after all, who had been so kind and so gallant in New York. Kurt who made his bones feel liquidy and his blood run icy-hot. No pressure. 

He entered the kitchen to find Kurt pretty much exactly where he’d left him, except his glass had been washed up and placed on the drainer. ‘Oh good, I’m so glad you’re still here.’ 

‘As requested,’ Kurt said lightly, but his fingers plucked at the strap of his watch restlessly. 

‘I’m glad. I wanted to talk to you because…’ Blaine paused at the sound of footsteps in the hall. They probably didn’t have long together alone. ‘Kurt,’ he said urgently. ‘Kurt, I know it was you who found Kitty; who got her home.’ 

Kurt’s face fell. ‘Oh.’ 

‘She didn’t mean to tell me, I made her. I know you wanted it to be a secret…’ Blaine couldn’t understand why Kurt was being weird about this, but he desperately wanted to make him feel better. 

‘That was the plan, yeah.’ Kurt’s tone turned cool. 

Sam stuck his head around the door, making them both jump. ‘Hey, don’t sweat it, man. You can’t hide anything from Blaine, trust me. He’ll just drill and drill and drill for it ‘til he gets there. He’s like the little engine that could.’ 

Blaine’s mouth dropped open involuntarily and his brows shot up into his hairline. He jumped up from his seat to go and shoo Sam away before all the rest of his facial features decided to run and hide in mortification, too. ‘Um, Sam was just leaving, right Sam?’ 

Sam’s brow creased in confusion. ‘I was?’ Then comprehension dawned. ‘Oh. _Oh!_ Yeah.’ He looked at Blaine’s face, finally noticing his expression. ‘What’d I say?’ He whispered. 

‘Just... Not now, okay?’ Blaine couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less right now than explain Sam’s euphemism back to him, in detail, in front of Kurt. 

‘But I-' 

‘Now.’ Blaine moved him bodily over the threshold. 

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut briefly before turning back to the room. He finally dared to look at Kurt, who was distinctly pink in the cheeks. He turned even pinker when he realised Blaine was looking. 

‘Is it hot in here?’ Kurt tried to deflect, but his voice was a little bit higher than normal and his eyes darted around the room uncomfortably. ‘Can we maybe open up a window?’

Blaine looked at him, and decided to seize the day. _Carpe diem,_ and all. Well, _carpe Kurt,_ hopefully. 

‘Kurt, do you want to go for coffee?’ he asked. ‘Get away from, um… all of this.’ He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the rest of the house. 

‘You want to go for coffee with me?’ Kurt blinked at him with wide blue eyes, and it suddenly dawned on Blaine that Kurt was nervous. _For me?_

‘Yeah.’ Blaine looked at Kurt steadily, trying to reassure him. ‘Come for coffee with me. Please?’ 

Kurt smiled shyly. ‘Okay.’ 

Blaine smiled in relief. ‘Okay. Good. There’s a place a couple of blocks away.’ 

It was a nice enough day that Blaine didn’t need a jacket, which made him acutely aware of Kurt’s proximity to him as they walked side by side. They were carefully not touching each other, but Blaine swore he could feel Kurt’s heat radiating into his own skin through the thin cotton of their shirt sleeves. He wanted to hold Kurt’s hand and stroke his thumb over those long, perfect fingers. He folded his arms over his chest to stop himself. It was bright, but he tucked his sunglasses into his shirt collar because he didn’t want anything to impede him looking at Kurt. Kurt, for whatever reason, did the same. 

‘Sorry about Sam,’ Blaine ventured while they walked. ‘He doesn’t do it on purpose, he really has no idea what he’s saying.’ 

Kurt laughed and Blaine felt some of the tension lift from his shoulders. ‘It’s fine. I’m not unaccustomed to surreal tendencies in friends.’ He waggled his phone in Blaine’s direction. ‘My last text message was my friend Britt telling me that her cat’s just been declared the next king of Rwanda, so.’ 

Blaine faltered for a beat. ‘Oh. That’s, um, quite a life change for him.’ 

Kurt shrugged. ‘Not really. He’s been exiled for his radical politics for some time, apparently, so everything’s the exact same except now he takes a ceremonial staff with him wherever he goes.’ 

Blaine laughed in disbelief. ‘It sounds like she and Sam would get on famously.’ 

Kurt chuckled. ‘I think they really would, actually.’ He paused for a second. ‘Sam’s cute. I never noticed that before.’ 

A prickly shower of jealousy washed over Blaine’s skin. ‘Maybe you were distracted by Chandler?’ He ventured. 

Kurt looked at him sideways, caught his eye and his lips curved up into a wicked little impish smile that made Blaine flash hot all over. ‘No, that really wasn’t it.’ 

Blaine ducked his head to hide the ridiculous grin that was spreading over his face, unbidden. 

They must have had some sort of non-verbal, unconscious communication because they had both slowed to a stand-still near a small park – just a little patch of green with a few trees - and they sank down onto a bench next to each other, coffee temporarily forgotten. 

Blaine squinted up at the sunlight streaming through the patchwork canopy of leaves. ‘Hey, I’m sorry if I upset you, before. About Kitty.’ 

Kurt folded his hands together. ‘It’s alright. I was just caught off guard, but it’s fine. I’m sorry that you found out like that.’ 

‘Kurt… Why didn’t you want anyone to know? We’re all so grateful to you…’ Blaine finally let himself reach out and touch Kurt’s forearm, lightly. 

‘And that’s just it. I tracked down Sebastian because I felt like it was my fault.’ Kurt waved away Blaine’s protests. ‘No, I… We didn’t handle it as well as we could have, with Rachel. I could have stopped it from happening with Kitty. I didn’t want you to know because…’ He looked up at the sky and sighed. ‘I was worried it would make you uneasy. I don’t want you to feel awkward, or… I don’t know… Obligated.' Kurt's nose crinkled in distaste at the word. 'I don’t want you guys to feel like you owe me anything, because I certainly don’t feel that way.’ 

‘Oh. No, it’s not like that. I just had to thank you, especially since I’m sure Kitty never did, properly. And for Sam too, with Mercedes.’ Blaine had kept his fingertips on Kurt’s forearm, splaying his hand gently so he was grasping it more firmly. 

Kurt stared down at the hand on his arm. ‘You don’t have to thank me for them. I’m glad things have worked out for Kitty, and for Sam of course, but I… Just wanted you to be happy.’ He looked up, his eyes limpid and sincere. ‘I just want to make _you_ happy.’ 

Blaine’s jaw worked but he couldn’t speak; he was too overcome by the bubble of elation that was rapidly expanding in his chest. After a second Kurt stood and wandered over to stand under one of the trees, running his fingers over the roughened, silvery bark. He turned back a little. ‘Can I ask you a question?’ 

Blaine nodded, and went to join him. If there was a chance for him, now, with Kurt, he was going to grab it with both hands and never let go. 

Kurt exhaled, long and low. ‘Do you still feel the same about me as you did in March? Because… I still feel the same about you. But I don’t want to ruin this, so if you haven’t changed your mind about me please just tell me, and I swear I’ll never mention it again.’ 

Blaine looked at him, at this brave man who had taught him so much about the world and about himself, who confused him and took his breath away in equal measure, who had laid his heart on the line once again for him despite Blaine rejecting it so cruelly once before. This was the moment it would all change, for both of them. Nothing would ever be quite the same again. Blaine reached out for words through the fog of emotion that curled through his mind. He took a breath. _Courage._


	28. Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurt and Blaine have an actual conversation! Fair warning, this is So. Much. Fluff. 
> 
> This is the last chapter, with just the epilogue left. I'm so sad this is over!
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading. I initially did this just for me, never really expecting anyone else to want to read it because it's such a funny mixture of things, so it's been amazing that you've enjoyed it too. x

Kurt blew out a breath. ‘Do you still feel the same about me as you did in March? Because… I still feel the same about you. But I don’t want to ruin this, so if you haven’t changed your mind about me please just tell me, and I swear I’ll never mention it again.’ He bit his lip as he watched Blaine’s face, anxiously. 

There was a long pause as Blaine seemed to be figuring out what he wanted to say, and Kurt felt panic start to flare up. He’d been hopeful – very hopeful – but he’d gotten Blaine wrong before. He would never take Blaine’s feelings for granted, now. Maybe he was trying to let him down gently – which was at least, he told himself, an improvement on last time… He was trying to think of a way to back out of this graciously, allowing them both their dignity, when - 

_‘Kurt.’_ Blaine breathed out his name so tenderly it stopped him in his tracks. Blaine moved to stand on front of him, putting his hands on his shoulders, and Kurt found himself pinned by his gaze, unable to blink or look away or move. His cheeks flooded with heat so he knew he was pink, and surely Blaine could hear his heart beating against his ribs, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt this nervous in his life before. Blaine, on the other hand, seemed calm and sure, smiling a little as he rose up onto his toes, moving his arms to wrap around Kurt’s neck as he surged up to find Kurt’s mouth in a kiss. 

It took Kurt a second to react, because _how was this really happening?_ Less than a minute ago he had still been so unsure, and now he was standing here, wrapped up in Blaine, with Blaine kissing him softly, carefully, like he was something precious. Once his brain had caught up he kissed back, just as softly, just as carefully. Blaine smiled against his lips, moving his hands to cup Kurt’s jaw, and Kurt couldn’t help but bring his own up to hold Blaine there. He wanted Blaine there for always. 

Blaine tilted his head a little and ran his tongue over Kurt’s bottom lip before licking into his mouth, more gently and sweetly than Kurt had ever been kissed. He let Blaine control it, let himself get lost in the heat from Blaine’s hands, and the scent of him; the notes of his light, spicy cologne and underneath, soap against warm skin.

He reluctantly pulled back when he felt months’ worth of pent-up passion and longing and restraint start to stir in his stomach, and instead rested his forehead against Blaine’s, struggling to catch his breath. His lips were kiss-swollen and tingling and he was pretty sure his heart wasn’t beating so much as humming.

‘Kurt, I got a job offer.’ Blaine murmured, not letting him go.

Kurt’s stomach twisted with disappointment. If Blaine was settling into a life in Ohio would be really want to start something with Kurt? Maybe this kiss was just a thank you-and-goodbye kiss. He’d hoped, just for a minute… But he wouldn’t be selfish. He’d learned better than that. ‘That’s great! Is it what you want?’

Blaine nodded. ‘It’s everything I want.’

Kurt took a shaky breath and forced a smile. Blaine’s face was glowing with happiness. He was so beautiful it made Kurt’s chest ache. ‘Good. Then I’m happy for you. You deserve it.’ With some effort, he loosened his hold on Blaine and stepped back. ‘So, are you finding a smaller place with Tina and Lauren or are you going to sub-let Sam and Kitty’s rooms?’ He moved to cross his arms over his chest, but Blaine reached out to catch his wrists. 

‘Kurt… No, you don’t understand.’ Blaine smiled, bouncing on his toes a little. ‘The job’s in New York.’

 _Hope._ ‘Wait... Really?’ 

Blaine laced his fingers through Kurt’s, tugging Kurt closer. ‘Really. Look, I want to be in New York. I always have. And Sam’s off on tour and Kitty’s already in the city. Cooper’s in Lima to be near Mom, now. So, it’s the right time. And I need the change. But mostly I’m doing this,’ Blaine took Kurt’s face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over his cheekbones, ‘because I can’t stand to be apart from the person I love.’

Kurt stared at him. There had been so much uncertainty, and so much confusion, he just couldn’t be sure.

Blaine’s eyes crinkled in amusement. ‘That’s you, Kurt.’

‘Oh.’ Kurt’s head was spinning. ‘I love you, too.’

It was such an incredible relief to say it out loud – to be allowed to say it, instead of holding back. To feel like his love was encouraged and wanted – _welcomed_ – was overwhelming. Kurt closed his eyes, letting himself relax into the strong hands cradling his face for a second. Then he started to laugh, giggles bubbling up from deep down in his chest.

‘What?’ Kurt looked up to find Blaine smiling gently at him.

‘You know why I came back here again?’

Blaine shook his head.

‘June. She came to see me a couple of days ago. She’s furious with you, incidentally.’

Blaine scrunched up his face adorably. ‘I know. It’s a cross I’m happy to bear, but I’m sorry if it makes anything difficult for you.’ He slipped his arms around Kurt’s waist and tucked his face against his neck. Goosebumps spread over Kurt’s skin at the weight and shape of Blaine’s body against him, at the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin of his neck. Touch had always seemed to come more easily to Blaine than to Kurt – and now Blaine had permission, it was like he wanted to be touching as much of Kurt as possible.

Kurt tentatively smoothed his palms over Blaine’s shoulders as he laughed into Blaine’s hair. ‘Well, she told me all about the talk she’d had with you. I think she was trying to show me how wilful and stubborn you are, to put me off you. But it didn’t exactly have the desired effect.’

He felt Blaine’s lips curve up against the skin of his throat. ‘You like wilful and stubborn in a man, huh?’

‘Of course. Ideally I’m looking to make life as difficult for myself as I possibly can.’

Blaine ran his nose along Kurt’s jaw, pressing a kiss to the hinge. ‘I can definitely help with that.’

‘It – _oh_ – it made me think that, that…’ Kurt had to trail off for a second when Blaine’s tongue against his neck made his brain white out. ‘Stop that, you distracting man.’ 

‘Sorry.’ Blaine could not have looked less sorry. ‘What did it make you think?’

‘It made me think… that if you really didn’t want me, you would have told her so.’

Blaine chuckled and dropped his forehead into his hand. ‘Well, that’s true. I was so awful to your face how could I have any scruple in being awful to all your friends.’

Kurt shook his head. ‘You weren’t awful. You didn’t say anything I didn’t deserve. Some of it was based on misinformation, but you were absolutely right to call me out on my behaviour to you. It was unforgivable, really. I can’t even think about it now without feeling completely ashamed.’

Blaine took Kurt’s hands, running his thumbs over the palms, making warmth surge pleasantly up Kurt's arms. ‘Oh, I think we both managed to behave pretty badly, along the way. I don’t think trying to figure out who’s more to blame will do us any good. We both messed up. We’re both doing better. It’s in the past.’ 

Kurt wished it were that simple for him. ‘I don’t know if I can forgive myself as easily as you’ve forgiven me. What you said about my not behaving like a gentleman… God, you have no idea how that’s tortured me. Even though it was a couple of weeks ‘til I could admit to myself you were right…’

Blaine looked stricken. ‘I had no idea you felt that way about it.’

Kurt laughed. ‘You didn’t think I was capable of any feelings at all, I’m sure. Your face when you told me that I couldn’t have told you how I felt in any possible way that would have induced you to accept me…’

Blaine groaned. ‘Please, don’t. They aren’t nice memories. Honestly, it’s been so long since I felt that way.’ He raised one of Kurt’s hands up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

Something loosened a little in Kurt’s chest every time Blaine reiterated that it was different now – like something long-frozen was thawing out, or breaking free. Kurt tilted his head a little. ‘I always wondered… My letter… Did you even believe it when you first read it or did you dislike me so much you dismissed it out of hand?’

‘No, I believed it. Of course I believed it.’ Blaine’s eyebrows drew together, earnestly. ‘I was mad about it for a while – the part about Sam, at least. But as time went on I realised how annoyingly right you were about a lot of stuff…’ He flashed a grin at Kurt, ‘I realised… how much our first meeting had colored my views on everything else.’ He sighed. ‘Everything is always so much clearer with hindsight.’

‘I thought it would make you hate me.’ Kurt worried his lower lip between his teeth. ‘I remember I was so angry when I wrote it.’

‘No. Maybe it began in anger. But you didn’t end it that way.’ Blaine’s eyes were soft and Kurt felt his pulse flutter at his throat. ‘I think we should forget it now, anyway. Try to remember the parts of our pasts that make us happy, not dwell on the unpleasant stuff.’

Kurt sucked in a breath and leaned back so he rested against the trunk of the silvery tree, its roughness a welcome anchor. He closed his eyes. It was easier to talk when he wasn’t looking right at Blaine. ‘I don’t know. I think it’s probably good for me to remember it all. To learn the lessons. I’ve been… selfish, I guess, especially since my dad died. He wanted me to realise my dreams… was willing to fight to the death to make it possible, actually. So after I lost him I got caught up in that. I threw myself into college, and then when I met June I started to get roles… I was surrounded by people telling me how amazing I was. You have to have confidence in yourself, for sure, but I… Maybe I started to believe in my own hype a little too much. I let my ego get out of control. I didn’t really want to let anyone in, so I told myself I was better than everyone else.' He blinked open his eyes to find Blaine looking at him sympathetically, a stray curl escaping down over his forehead.

Kurt reached out to wind the curl around his finger, brushing his fingertips over the thin, soft skin of Blaine's temple, enjoying the way the touch made Blaine's eyes flutter shut, his long eyelashes splaying out onto the apples of his cheeks momentarily. 'And I might still have been that way, except for you,' he tucked the curl back away from his face, reverently, 'beautiful Blaine.'

Blaine blushed and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist again, settling his cheek against Kurt's shoulder. Kurt was pleased at how perfectly he fit against him. He let his hand settle on the back of Blaine's neck, stroking his fingers through his hair, and they stayed there, holding each other. After a while - it could have been a few minutes or it could have been many, Kurt didn't care - Blaine hummed thoughtfully. ‘While we’re getting everything out in the open… I’m curious about something, but I’m almost afraid to ask… What you thought when I turned up in New York? Were you angry at me?’ 

Kurt raised his eyebrows. ‘No, I was just surprised.' 

Blaine straightened up to look Kurt in the eye. ‘You couldn’t have been more surprised than me. Especially at how incredibly kind you were when I really didn’t deserve it.’ Something like regret flickered over his face.

‘I just wanted to show you that I didn’t resent you. To show you that… That I’d heard you. That I was trying to do better. And I wanted you to know me, a little.’ Kurt lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.

‘Well, I found out that you think my brother is the best-looking man in the world! Something, by the way, that he has not stopped telling all of Ohio, ever since.’ Blaine poked Kurt gently in the chest and raised his eyebrows.

Kurt smirked, secretly pleased that Blaine cared enough to get a little bit jealous. ‘Aw, that’s not true.’ He ran his hands down over Blaine’s shoulders. ‘I said he was the best-looking man in _America_ – ow!’ He broke off laughing as Blaine punched him lightly on the arm. 

‘Hmph.’ Blaine pouted so adorably that Kurt couldn’t help but lean in to kiss it away. 

Between kisses Kurt murmured, ‘Obviously I didn’t mean it. I was trying to play it cool.’

‘You do realise you’ve condemned me to a lifetime of hilarious jokes from Cooper about how my boyfriend thinks he’s prettier than me, right?’ Blaine narrowed his eyes playfully.

Kurt’s heart stopped. _Boyfriend._ He was Blaine’s boyfriend. And Blaine was his. He cleared his throat and tried to look suitably abashed. ‘I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?’

Blaine glanced up at the sky, pretending to think. ‘Well, I do like coffee.’

Kurt laughed. ‘Then let’s get some coffee.’ 

Blaine held up a finger to halt him, and Kurt suddenly got a glimpse of the teacher in him. ‘And kisses. I like kisses, too.’

Kurt sighed and sucked his teeth. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Anderson.’

‘Coffee and kisses. Take it or leave it.’

‘You’ve got yourself a deal.’ Kurt held out a hand, and Blaine took it.

*

Kurt was as good as his word, holding Blaine’s hand and pulling him in for little kisses all the way to the coffee shop, neither of them caring that they were in public in Ohio, because they wouldn’t be there for long anyway. Soon they would be in New York. Together. Blaine’s blood thrummed with excitement at the thought of the freedom he could have there – with his boyfriend. His cheeks flushed a little at the memory of the look of pleased disbelief on Kurt’s face when he’d playfully slipped the word into their conversation.

They wandered slowly home, sipping at their coffees, chatting lightly about Blaine’s plans for his move to New York that August. Blaine explained how he had been torn between the job at a middle school in the city, and another offer he had received from the school he’d had a placement at in Columbus during his degree, going back and forth between the two in his mind for several days before Cooper had called and told him to stop being such a dummy and get his butt to New York. He’d formally accepted the job offer the next day, and was in the process of looking at rooms in apartments. He was touched by Kurt’s offer to check them out for him in person before he made a decision, pressing a grateful kiss to his cheek in thanks.

They decided to pick up Thai food on the way, both ready to be alone with each other, away from curious eyes. Blaine’s house was mercifully empty, and they settled down on the couch to eat, putting on some generic interior design programme so they could both ignore it. Blaine tucked himself into Kurt’s side, revelling in the solid warmth of him. Kurt declared the red chicken curry to be the best he’d had in ages, and Blaine decided to try it by tasting it straight from his lips, and then Kurt pulled him into his lap. Their food was abandoned in favour of languid kisses and whispered endearments, both of them unfolding the feelings they had tucked away, hidden away inside their hearts and offering them up, finally able to trust that the other would take care of them.

Eventually Blaine noticed how dark it was getting outside, and he whispered ‘Stay tonight?’ against Kurt’s swollen lips. 

He felt Kurt’s chest rise at his sharp inhalation of breath. ‘I… I probably should head back to the hotel. I have an early flight in the morning.’

‘Nuh-uh.’ Blaine stubbornly pulled Kurt back in for another kiss. 

‘Blaine…’ 

Blaine huffed, fisting his hands into Kurt’s shirt. He wasn’t ready to let him go yet. ‘Please?’

Kurt kissed him softly. ‘I want to. Believe me.’ Kurt’s thumb brushed over his cheekbone. ‘But I don’t want to rush this.’

Blaine tried to figure out how to explain. ‘No, it’s not about… _that._ Not really. I just… It feels like I’ve spent so much time missing you. And I’ll have to miss you all over again when you go back to New York tomorrow. I really don’t want to lay there and miss you all night when you’re only a few minutes away.’ 

Kurt looked at him, his eyes dark and inscrutable in the half-light.

‘I’ll make you breakfast? I’m excellent at breakfast…’ Blaine looked up at him through his eyelashes and Kurt sighed in defeat, shaking his head with a smile.

‘Okay. I’ll go grab my stuff and come back.’

‘Yes!’ Blaine fist-pumped triumphantly.

Kurt laughed. ‘You're a dork, you know that, right?'

'You love me.' Blaine didn't even try to keep the smugness from his voice. 

'I do love you.' Kurt sounded sure and certain and amused. Blaine loved him back, and told him so.

He scrambled upright and tugged on Kurt's hands until he was standing, then pushed him gently towards the door. 'Go get your stuff, before I change my mind about letting you leave.'

'Alright, alright. I'm going.' Kurt brushed his lips over Blaine's, murmuring 'I'll see you soon,' and slipped out of the door, leaving Blaine grinning like a fool in the living room. He jumped backwards onto the couch, folding his arms back to pillow his head.

After a few minutes Sam came home. 'Hey, man. Ooh is that Thai food? Can I finish it?' When Blaine nodded he grabbed the nearest container, scooping rice into his mouth. 'Mm, so good.'

'Yup. Best red curry ever.' Blaine couldn't stop the huge smile from forming on his face.

Sam's eating slowed as he narrowed his eyes, and then he plopped down onto the sofa, moving Blaine's feet into his lap. 'Wait, what's happened? I haven't seen you this starry-eyed in... forever. It's either a boy, or the bakery on Elm has started doing those cronuts you love so much again.'

Blaine sat up a little bit to look at Sam. 'It's a boy.'

'Dude, that's awesome! What boy? Do I know him?'

'You do, actually. It's Kurt.'

Sam paused, fork halfway to his mouth. 'Kurt Hummel? That's... Are you joking with me?'

Blaine rolled his eyes. 'Well, this is a good start! If you don't believe me then nobody else will!' He sat up properly so Sam could see how serious he was. 'We spent the day together. He still loves me, and we're together.'

Sam frowned. 'But you don't _like_ Kurt Hummel.'

Blaine shook his head vehemently. 'No, that's... Everything's different now. It has been for a long time. I love him, Sam.'

Sam let out a low whistle. 'That's... Wow, man. That's unexpected - and I'm really happy for you. But I gotta ask... are you sure you can be happy with him?'

'I am very, very sure. It's all settled - we've decided to be the happiest couple in the world, so.' Blaine laughed affectionately at Sam's bewildered face. 

'I mean, I knew he was into you. I had no idea you liked him so much. Mercedes asked me about it today actually, and I said I didn't think it would happen...' Sam set down his food and leaned towards Blaine. 'Okay, so, tell me... When did you fall for him?'

'Oh I don't know. It's been coming on so gradually I don't even know when it began. But...' he grinned at Sam, wickedly, 'I could probably date it from my first seeing his beautiful apartment in New York.'

'Oh my god, be serious, idiot!' Sam kicked at him, making Blaine squeak and fold his legs up underneath himself.

'Okay, sorry.' Blaine rested his head back against the sofa, thinking back over everything he and Kurt had been through over the last few months. 'I guess New York, yeah, but even before that, I... After the letter, there was _something,_ you know? It's grown from there. I really, really love him, Sam.'

'I know.' Sam looked at him steadily. 'You never say that lightly.' He jumped up from the sofa. 'I gotta go call Mercedes, she'll kill me if she doesn't find out straight away.' He caught up the food container and went to leave, turning back when he reached the doorway.

'Hey, Blaine?'

Blaine had stretched out on his back again and was gazing up at the ceiling, smiling to himself. 'Yeah?'

'I'm really happy that you're happy.'

Blaine rolled his head to look at Sam and smile. 'Thanks. I'm really happy that you're happy, too.'

*

A gentle tap at the door signalled Kurt's return, and Blaine almost tripped over himself in his haste to answer it. His stomach swooped at the sight of Kurt, a little more mussed and dishevelled than when he'd arrived this morning, now toting a small, hand-luggage sized suitcase on wheels. Kurt's awkward wave hello was possibly the cutest thing Blaine had ever seen. He decided to overcome any further awkwardness on Kurt's part with more kisses, taking his hand to pull him down the hall into his own room, laughing as Kurt blushed when Sam shouted 'Congrats, dudes!' as they passed his room.

Blaine closed the door behind them. 'Lauren and Tina will be home soon, and I don't want to share you unless I have to.'

Kurt shrugged. 'You don't have to.' He looked around Blaine's room, taking in the neatly made bed, the shelf of lovingly maintained robots, the stack of worn books on the bedside table. He set down his small bag and turned to face Blaine. The short time apart seemed to have renewed his nerves, and he fiddled with the strap of his watch.

'Come on, I want to cuddle. And talk more. Because I was thinking about it, and we really haven't had that many actual conversations, and I have questions!' Blaine hoped his mischievous mood would sooth Kurt's slight anxiety.

'Oh, you do?' Kurt laughed, allowing Blaine to pull him down onto the bed and settle against him, laying his head on Kurt's shoulder and draping his arm over Kurt's middle. He tucked his face into his neck, pressing his lips against Kurt's skin. He held him, breathing him in, until he felt Kurt start to relax beneath him, then he whispered, 'Hi.'

He felt Kurt's face turn towards him, a kiss pressed to his hair. 'Hi.'

He wiggled a bit, getting comfortable. 'I was wondering if you would tell me, um, about when you realised you liked me. And... and why?'

Kurt's forehead wrinkled as he thought. 'I don't know if I can give you the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It's so long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.'

'Well you withstood my stunning good looks easily enough at the beginning, and after that my behaviour to you almost always bordered on rude. At least, that was my intention.' Blaine tilted his head back to grin cheekily up at Kurt, who squeezed his hip in return. 'So, be honest… You liked my chutzpah?'

Kurt burst out laughing, his chest rumbling beneath Blaine. 'If you mean, 'did I like you for the liveliness of your mind', then yes I did.'

Blaine quirked his brow. 'It was rudeness, Kurt. I think... You liked me because you were sick of being surrounded by sycophants and guys who were always telling you what they thought you wanted to hear to get what they wanted from you, and I was snarky to you instead.' They both knew Blaine was talking about Chandler. 'If you weren’t a nice person you’d have hated me for it, but you are a good person. Maybe deep down you were sick of all the flatterers and I was the only one who was mean to you.' 

Kurt tightened his hold, slipping his fingers under the hem of Blaine's t-shirt to draw little circles on the skin of his hip. 'Well... You did sing 'Don't You Want Me' at me pretty passive-aggressively. Of course from that moment I wanted you. How was I supposed to resist?' Blaine laughed and covered his eyes. 'Blaine... You're not giving yourself a whole lot of credit, you know. I knew you were smart. I knew you could sing. I knew you were nice, because you came along to keep Sam company that first night at the hotel.' 

Blaine laughed and shook his head. 'I feel like that's stretching it, but how about this... I'll leave my good qualities under your protection, and you can exaggerate them as much as possible; and in return, it belongs to me to find reasons for teasing you and picking fights as often as I can, for your own good.'

Kurt grinned. 'That sounds fair.' He splayed his hand out over Blaine's belly. Blaine liked how possessive it felt. He reached for Kurt's free hand and turned it over so he could brush patterns onto his palm with his fingertips. It was blissful to lay like this, not weighed down by doubts or regrets or unrequited longing.

'Kurt... Can I ask... why you didn't tell me how you felt before now? It seemed like you weren't interested in me any more, when you came here with Mercedes that time.'

Kurt scrunched his nose up. 'I don't know, when I got here I got worried you didn't feel the same. And you were unusually quiet around me. It wasn't exactly encouraging.'

'I was embarrassed.' Blaine protested with a smile. 

'Well, so was I.' Kurt leaned in to kiss him, nipping at his lower lip, smiling at the involuntarily noise it elicited at the back of Blaine's throat.

Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt's hand. 'You could have talked to me, any time after the, um, cemetery. You could have called.'

Kurt met his eyes. 'I know. I'm sorry. If I'd felt less, I might have.' 

Blaine's heart thudded in his chest. Kurt was trying to hard to be open to him, now, and Blaine was so moved by his honest vulnerability in this moment.

'Do you think... Would you have said something, eventually, today? If I hadn’t thanked you for Kitty and Sam, far too effusively for your liking?’

Kurt nodded. ‘I would have. Everything June told me gave enough hope that I had to at least try.

‘And that’s why you came back to Ohio? Not just to sit in my living room and be embarrassed?’ Blaine teased.

Kurt rolled his eyes. ‘No, of course it was to see you. To see if I had a chance.' 

'And now you have to tell June…' Blaine winced dramatically.

Kurt hummed. ‘You leave June to me. She’ll come around. And if she doesn’t… Well, I have to do what’s best for me.’

'Which is...?' Blaine bit his lip.

'Oh you know, yoga, holistic knitting, adult coloring books...' Kurt yelped as Blaine tickled his side. 'Nonono, stop it, you brat! I meant _us,_ obviously. As long as... I mean I don't know about you, but this isn't a casual thing, for me.'

Blaine looked up at him. He liked the sound of Kurt referring to them as _'us'._ He liked it a lot.

'No, of course. It's not casual for me, either.' Blaine propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down into Kurt's face. 'There's no-one else. There hasn't been anybody serious in a really, really long time.' 

Kurt's hand came up to cradle his cheek, his eyes deep and blue in the glow of the lamplight. 'For me, either.'

Blaine wanted to say that there'd never been anyone like this. He'd never felt like this before, never been so hopeful for all the things his future held, but he didn't want to overwhelm Kurt. There'd be time for everything, he was certain. They had time. He cuddled back into Kurt, listening to the comforting, miraculous thud of his heart through his chest. 

'So, August, hmm?' Kurt's fingers traced their circuitous path over Blaine's hip bone and down onto his belly.

Blaine nodded. 'Yeah. I still need to find a room and try and find someone for this one. And I have my job at the music store. I promised them I'd work two week's notice, and in return Mr Ryerson promised to try and let me have time off when I need it. It's so weird to be facing such a big change. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited. It's just weird.'

Kurt must have heard some note of worry in his voice, because he laced his fingers with Blaine's and said, 'Everything will be fine, you know.'

'You think so?'

'Of course. I know it's scary. Believe me, I understand. But Kitty's already there, Rachel loves you and ohmygod will not shut up about you, by the way. And I'll be there. I'll always be there.' He squeezed Blaine's hand.

Blaine smiled. 'I know. Thank you.'

Kurt wrinkled his forehead. 'Would it help if I made you, like, really a lot of hummus?'

Blaine hummed thoughtfully. 'It depends... How much hummus are we talking about?'

'So much hummus, Blaine.' Kurt turned to him earnestly and made an expansive hand gesture. 'So much.'

Blaine laughed, tension lifting off his shoulders, and he let Kurt move the conversation to lighter things, telling him all about his third year NYADA project at the Lexington Home for Retired Performers, and how it inspired the Broadway show he was in today. He drifted off hours later to Kurt's soft voice and the touch of Kurt's fingertips tracing their way over his skin. Just as he fell into sleep he suddenly realised that the shape Kurt had been tracing all this time was a heart.

He woke up to an empty room and a note on the opposite pillow, written in Kurt's flowing hand. _'Didn't have the heart to wake you. You can make me breakfast in New York next week. Check your phone. Love, K <3 '_

He rolled over to grab his phone, and found that Kurt had forwarded him the information for an open return ticket to New York, in his name, along with the text, _'I don't want to miss you any more either. xxx'_

*

Six Weeks Later

Blaine looked out of the window, over what seemed like hundreds of miles of yellow corn, rippling in the breeze like waves through water. He clutched his phone more tightly - his link to home, his mom, his friends, and everything he'd ever known. And his link to Kurt, who was probably already on his way to his new room in his new little apartment, shared with an account manager and a barman, to clean it before he arrived. He thought back to this time last year, and how unattainable his dreams of a handsome boyfriend and a life full of music and romance in New York had seemed. Now they were as close to coming true as they possibly could be. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky. True, there were things his fifteen-year-old self could never have envisioned in any of his fantasy futures - he'd be teaching, not performing, and he and Kurt would both have insane schedules to juggle, and lives to piece together. 

He also could never have envisioned that his dad would be here, at the wheel of the U-Haul, next to him, having gruffly offered to help him with his move. Blaine imagined his mom and Cooper were really the driving force behind it, but he decided he was still going to try and enjoy this time with his dad, and appreciate that his dad was making an effort. Maybe it would never be perfect, but there was love there, so there was hope.

The handsome boyfriend of his fantasies had always been a little formless and undefined, usually taking the rough shape of whatever crush Blaine had harbored at any given moment. At one point he'd been tall with sandy curls, and, oh, what was his name... Jebediah? It didn't matter. The role of his leading man was filled now, and apparently love was going to be in the form of a whip-smart, super-talented, incredibly sweet, ridiculously gorgeous (and, okay, ever so slightly awkward) Broadway star. He opened up his phone to look at the picture he'd taken of the two of them, when he'd visited New York the month before, still wrapped up in white sheets in the early morning sunlight. Blaine was laughing, unfettered and joyous, and Kurt's face was turned in and pressed against Blaine's cheek, his expression relaxed and content.

Blaine tried and failed to bite back a sappy sigh. He turned on the radio and tuned it in to one that was playing Bob Seger, laughing and singing along when his dad joined in. He shot off a text to Kurt. _'Dad's singing with me to the radio! Good omen, right?!'_

He laughed as his phone buzzed almost immediately in response. _'The best <3 Can't *wait* to see you. Going to kiss your face off xxx'_

Thirty seconds later, another text. _'But not in front of your dad, obviously. That would be horrifying. K xxx'_

He texted back _'Love you so much. xxx'_ and settled back to join in with his dad, smiling as he sang. 'That kind of music just soothes the soul...'

He was on his way.


	29. Twenty-Nine

**Epilogue**

‘Do you think Austen will be alright?’ Blaine called out, smoothing down his hair in the mirror. ‘I reminded Rachel that there’s a brand new container of his special milk ready for him, and he likes it at room temperature, not cold from the fridge, but I don’t think she heard me. She was too busy trying to convince me his middle name should be Lin-Manuel, in order to properly pay our Broadway dues, and I’m all for hyphenating his last name, Kurt, but I feel like Austen Lin-Manuel Hummel-Anderson is probably crossing the line from the sublime to the ridiculous… My point is, we haven't been away from him for months. What if he’s traumatised by the lack of continuity in his care?’ 

‘For the millionth time, Blaine, he’s a cat not a baby!’ Kurt’s muffled reply came from the living area. ‘And Rachel lives with us, she knows how to keep him alive, even if she’s proven she absolutely cannot be trusted to name him!’

Blaine sighed and then pulled out the little monogrammed leather travel cufflink case that Kurt had gotten him for their three-month anniversary (only then it had contained a key to Kurt's apartment, and Blaine had moved in officially three months after that). ‘I know, it’s just… what if he’s missing us? What if he’s pining? You know, there are scientific studies that say that cats get depression just like people do.’ 

He looked down at his cufflinks, torn between an oval pair with preppy red, white and navy stripes, and a Brooks Brothers pair that were shaped like tiny blue blazers with red ties. When he’d bought them, Kurt had side-eyed them and declared them twee, but Blaine didn’t care. They reminded him of his Dalton days from years gone by, and he assured Kurt that they weren’t any more twee than his cardigan with the little lobsters embroidered all over it. Kurt had said that didn’t make him feel better at all, and Blaine had reminded him that Kurt was the one that got to take it all off at the end of the day, and everything else had been lost to head-spinning, toe-curling kisses.

'You don't say, Mr Teacher-Man.' Kurt appeared behind him then, leaning down to drop a kiss onto his forehead. Blaine tilted his head back so Kurt found his mouth instead. Kurt smiled against his lips. ‘He’ll be fine,’ he whispered. ‘And anyway, we’re back in New York on Tuesday. Worst case scenario, we cuddle with him on the sofa and cry over Hugh Grant movies and talk about boys ‘til he feels better. If he needs actual therapy then Rachel's paying.'

Blaine laughed. ‘Okay.' Kurt's dry humor could almost always pull him out of a bad mood. 'And what about you? Will you need therapy after tonight, do you think? You didn't exactly enjoy the last one of these little get-togethers.' 

Kurt shrugged. 'That all depends on whether Sugar still insists on using those god-awful red solo cups.'

'I don't think the problem was the cups so much as what was in them...' Blaine wrinkled his nose at the memory of the warm, acrid alcohol usually served in abundance at Glee reunions. 'Seems to me, as I get older, that the amount of fun had at a party is directly proportional to how decent the booze is.'

‘A theory applicable to almost any social event, in fact. You are as wise as you are pretty.' Kurt smirked. 'I like that pair.’ He gestured to the oval cufflinks, before slipping back out into the living room.

‘Oh come on, Kurt, you _love_ the blazers!’ Blaine teased. He didn’t need to look up to know Kurt was rolling his eyes at him. He put on the oval cufflinks, smiling softly at the scent of Kurt’s cologne in the air. 

‘I’m sorry we have to go back so soon,’ he called out, perfecting his bow-tie. ‘I know you wanted to take my mom shopping.’ It brought a lump to his throat; the effort Kurt had put into getting to know his mom. And she had opened her heart to Kurt in return, even taking flowers to his parents' grave after church on Sunday mornings. They had spent Christmas day with the whole family at Cooper's house, and Kurt and Cynthia had spent most of it in the kitchen, cooking and gossiping like old friends. Blaine's family had visited them over the one year anniversary of Kurt's show, during which Cooper had insisted loudly and often that he was Kurt's biggest fan ('and by biggest I mean tallest _and_ most beautiful, Blaine...') and Kurt had snuck Cynthia out to take her shopping at Bloomingdale's. Even Todd was managing to navigate a slightly shaky path of civility, his general discomfort with Kurt and Blaine as a couple eased over time by familiarity and the excellence of Kurt's cooking. 

They were back in Ohio - at the Netherfield, again, in fact - for another of Sugar's Glee reunions, and Blaine knew Kurt was disappointed not to be able to spend more time with his mom. 

‘It’s alright, we can do it another time.' Kurt called back. 'I know you need to get back for your crowd-funding thing.’

‘Well, thank you for being such a gallant boyfriend about it.’

‘Of course.’ Kurt poked his head back around into the bedroom and smiled at him impishly. ‘I’m a gentleman, you know!’ 

Blaine smirked and stuck his tongue out, which made Kurt laugh. ‘Not very gentlemanly, Blaine!’

‘Oh hush, you.’ Blaine paused to look at the dresser mirror and take in the reflection of Kurt, stretched out against the door frame, resplendent in a beautiful slim cut, pale blue suit by a designer Blaine hadn't even heard of yet. He licked his lips unconsciously. He wasn’t sure he would ever feel anything less than unbelievably lucky to be with this man. 

‘You sure you won’t let me give you the money you guys need for your band?’ Kurt asked gently. ‘It’s yours if you want it.’

Blaine shook his head. ‘I’m not going to take your money, Kurt. Well… I’ll let you pay ten bucks like everybody else.’

‘Fifty?’

‘Fifteen.’

‘Thirty?’

_‘Kurt…’_

‘Alright, alright, you win…’ Kurt threw his hands up helplessly. ‘You know,’ he said nonchalantly, ‘if we got married my money would be yours, too...'

Blaine laughed and rolled his eyes. ‘Worst proposal ever, Kurt. Unbelievable. Not a rose petal in sight…’

Kurt shrugged, a wry smile playing about his lips. ‘Not a proposal, just an observation…’ Then he ducked back out into the living room to carry on with his... Hmm... What _had_ Kurt been doing all this time? He'd been dressed and ready for ages, as per his habit of being pathologically early to everything, yet he'd been busily flitting around this whole time.

He took a last appraising look in the mirror before standing up to follow Kurt, straightening the sleeves of his jacket and checking he had his wallet. ‘What are you even doing out here, anyw- oh…’ 

His mouth dropped open as he took in the room. The drapes were drawn and the lights were off, but Kurt had set out what looked like hundreds of white candles in various sizes. They were dotted over the low coffee table, the window sills, the mantelpiece of the fire, and two rows of tiny white tealights in tall glass holders had been laid out to mark a path from the doorway, blooming out into a circle in which Kurt stood, nervously fiddling with his watch strap. The effect was dazzling, bathing the room in a flickering, golden glow, making all of the glass and marble surfaces glitter with hundreds of reflected flames. The path was strewn with velvety red and yellow rose petals which filled the air with a beautiful, floral scent. 

Blaine’s heart started thumping in his chest as Kurt drew a small box down from the mantelpiece (because to have it in his pocket would have ruined the line of his suit, Blaine knew), and held it up in the palm of his hand. ‘Oh my god…’

‘As if I would propose to you without rose petals…’ Kurt said softly. He bit his lip and held out his hand to Blaine, and Blaine made his way across the candlelit room to take it, twining their fingers together. He couldn't stop looking at the effect of the candlelight on Kurt's beautiful skin, throwing the planes of his face into sharp relief.

Kurt looked down at their joined hands for a second, smiling. 'I thought about a lot of different ways I could do this... After the curtain call at the show, or in Central Park somewhere, but in the end I wanted it to be just us. Just for this moment.' He flicked his eyes up to meet Blaine's gaze. 'Actually I wanted to go back to where we first met, but I still have nightmares about that sticky carpet...' Kurt shuddered. 'And anyway, here... In this room, I don't know if you remember? This is where I first met you properly.'

Blaine nodded. 'I remember.' It felt like a lifetime ago.

'I was so mad at myself for saying all those stupid things at Sugar's party, because actually, I couldn't take my eyes off you. And I haven't been able to, ever since.'

Blaine flashed hot with emotion, tears sparking in the corners of his eyes. He pressed his lips together to try to keep his composure.

Kurt took a deep breath and carried on. 'I know it took a while for my head to catch up, but honestly, I think my heart chose you right then and there. And I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality I'd find you and I'd choose you.'

 _'Kurt...'_ Blaine hadn't known it was possible to feel this kind of dizzying, electrically charged, bone-deep love before Kurt. And now Kurt was offering it to him, for the rest of his life. It charged the air between them, pulsing through Blaine like it was in his blood, and Blaine could hardly breathe.

Kurt looked at him, as steady as Blaine was shaky, eyes bright with earnest ferocity. 'You're the love of my life.' He sounded soft, and sure. 'Marry me?'

Blaine's heart felt like it might beat out of his chest, and he couldn't hold back his smile. 'Yes. Of course. Yes.'

He reached out to take Kurt's face in his hands and draw him down for a kiss, needing to ground himself somehow in case he floated away. He kissed Kurt's lips briefly, then pressed kisses to his nose, his eyes, the fine arch of his cheekbones, murmuring 'Yes,' softly after each kiss.

Kurt laughed wetly, and Blaine wrapped his arms around him, holding him closely, swaying gently together. After several minutes Kurt pulled back and gently slipped the silvery ring up over the knuckles of Blaine's ring finger. It felt strange, and real, and right.

'How did you even do this when I was right through there?' Blaine looked around the room in awe.

The corner of Kurt's mouth curled up in a half smile. 'Your obliviousness is one of the things I love most about you, Mr Hummel-Anderson-to-be.'

Blaine went to pout but then realised, ‘Oh my god, I have to call my mom! Brace yourself, she's going to reach the sort of pitch only dogs can hear!' He produced his phone excitedly.

Kurt caught hold of his hand before he could dial. ‘Um, you don’t, actually… They’re waiting downstairs, with Cooper and Maria, and, you know, everyone...’

'Everyone...?' Blaine asked, slipping the phone back into his pocket. 

Kurt shifted from foot to foot guiltily. 'Sam and Mercedes... Tina and Lauren. Kitty. Mike. Thad and Eli. You know...' He waved his hands vaguely. 'Everyone.'

Blaine narrowed his eyes as comprehension dawned. ‘There never was a Glee reunion, was there?’

‘It’s possible Sugar was in on the whole thing… And Sam… And your mom…’ Kurt scrunched up his nose adorably. 

Blaine gasped in mock outrage and shoved at Kurt’s chest. ‘I can't believe I just agreed to marry someone so sneaky. If you ever tire of your Broadway career, all you need is a bag marked 'swag' and a life of crime awaits you!'

Kurt arched an eyebrow and shrugged. ‘You can’t be mad, I gave you jewellery.’ He was smug and infuriating and completely right, damn him. 

Blaine huffed. ‘Fine. But that's exactly how gangsters placated their molls, in the olden days. You should think about that.’

Kurt made a face. 'I really don't think old-time gangsters placated their molls by proposing to their gay live-in lovers, Blaine.'

'No, by giving them shiny things, you insufferable person.' Blaine thought about sticking out his tongue again, but relented when he caught sight of the flash of silver on his left hand out of the corner of his eye.

Kurt noticed him admiring the ring again and laughed. 'It worked, didn't it? It's not my fault that you're half canary, my love. And that's insufferable _fiance,_ to you.'

Blaine stopped and stared at him. 'Oh my god, Kurt, we're getting _married!'_

Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately. 'Yes, that is generally what getting engaged means. And now we need to go and tell everyone and put them out of their misery. Come on, our audience awaits!'

*

The curving staircase that opened out onto the opulent, panelled lobby appealed to Kurt's theatrical side, so they took the elevator down to the second floor and then made their way down the stairs hand in hand. Tina spotted them from across the lobby and squealed out 'They're here!'

Their friends and family spilled out from the ballroom to meet them in the lobby, a whirlwind of excited voices and claps to the shoulder, tears and exclamations over the ring, and Blaine felt like he'd stepped into a happy, magic little bubble of love.

Kurt hadn't been kidding about everyone being here. As they made it into the ballroom Thad came and scooped him up in a sweetly fierce hug, one-armed because he was holding Eli's hand the entire time. Eli smiled and raised his glass. He had to be going against June's express wishes to be here, and Blaine's heart warmed with affection for him. He was a good guy, and Blaine was lucky to be friends with him, finding that they actually got on pretty well now the awkwardness was in the past, and Blaine wasn't pre-disposed against him. He and Thad were a great balance for each other. Kurt was a little disappointed that June had declined his invitation, but he was hopeful they could repair their relationship over time. Blaine glanced around quickly and found no sign of Chandler, either, which wasn't a surprise. Chandler still disliked him with a seething passion, which Kurt and Blaine both blithely ignored.

When Blaine turned back from Thad, he found Kurt wrapped up in Sam's arms, and overheard Sam's low, playful admonishment. 'Dude, you totally stole my thunder. I'm gonna have to wait like a month now, before I ask Mercedes.'

He was drawn away, then, into a tender embrace from his tear-stained, beaming Mom, and from there he and Kurt were spun away from other, orbiting around each other but always keenly aware of the other's presence. More often than not Blaine would glance over to find Kurt already looking his way, his heart fluttering as they shared tiny, private smiles. _'I couldn't take my eyes off you. And I haven't been able to, ever since.'_

'Congrats little brother!' Cooper threw his arms around Blaine's shoulders, squeezing the breath out of him. 'Guess you've finally gotten the hang of the Anderson charm and convinced him you'd be the best ball for his chain, huh?' He winked salaciously and then cackled when he saw Blaine's pink cheeks and eye roll. He leaned in closer. 'Seriously, though, congratulations. He's a great guy.'

Blaine reflexively looked for Kurt, his breath hitching when he caught sight of that familiar, beautiful profile. For a moment he became the implacable, haughty Kurt from when they met, and then he turned, as if he could sense Blaine's gaze on him. When he found Blaine he reflected his smile, his face softening into the happier Kurt that Blaine loved, still sharp but also so, so sweet. 'He's the best guy.'

Cooper nodded. 'I know. You're good together. He's feisty. I like that.'

'Hey, _I'm_ feisty!' Blaine protested, forcing his attention back to his brother.

'Nah, you're scrappy. It's like being feisty but, you know, shorter.' Cooper grinned, and Blaine hated himself a bit for how easily Cooper could still get a rise out of him. He sighed and shook his head, bumping Cooper's shoulder with his own.

'I don't think I'd be here without you and Katie and Maria. In fact I know I wouldn't be. So, thank you.' 

Cooper ducked his head in a gesture more characteristic of Blaine than himself. 'You can repay me in baby-sitting when the four of us come visit you in your big gay fabulous love nest. It'll cramp your newlywed style, but let's face it you and Kurt are the type to get babied up at some point so you might as well practice.'

Something warm fluttered behind Blaine's ribs at Cooper use of 'newlywed', but before he could get too gooey over it something occurred to him. 'Wait, the four of you? You mean Mom?'

Cooper grinned widely, his expression turning tender. 'Maria's pregnant.'

'Oh my god, that's so awesome, Coop!' Blaine was ecstatic for them, and for their whole family. He scanned the room and found Maria caught up in a conversation with Elliott, and waved until he caught her attention. Then he blew a kiss and made a heart shape with his hands. She smiled back, brilliantly. Blaine was struck by how incredibly lucky he was to have his family around him. And now Kurt was going to be part of it, officially. It was sort of disgusting, how happy he was. 

*

Blaine shrugged off his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair. A few hours in and the room was getting warm from the crush of bodies dancing, talking, laughing. He smiled a little, looking over to see if he could see Kurt on the dance floor.

'Hey, you.' Kurt's arms wrapped around him from behind, and Blaine let himself sink back against him the warm solidity of him. A welcome glass of cool champagne was pressed into his hand.

'Hey. Just taking a second to let it all sink in. This is our _engagement party._ ' Blaine turned his head to nuzzle Kurt's cheek, kissing the skin under his jaw.

'I know. Crazy, right? Rachel was so devastated to miss it but she couldn't get the time off from her show. Did you hear there's talk of Tony nominations? She's taking us dancing when we get back.' He kissed the nape of Blaine's neck, sending a shudder down through Blaine's spine. 'Hey, I think we have a meet-cute on our hands over there...' Kurt inclined his head towards one corner of the room, and Blaine followed his gaze to see Tina and Mike deep in conversation, their faces only an inch or two apart. 

Blaine smiled. 'Aww, they're adorable together... Although if he hurts her I'm going to have to break his knees, which might put a little strain on your friendship with him.'

'He won't hurt her. He's a good guy.' Kurt tightened his hold on Blaine's waist.

'I know. I hope it works out. I couldn't part with her for anyone less worthy.'

Kurt smiled against his skin. Blaine took a sip of champagne, enjoying how it sparkled like tiny stars across his tongue, and then turned a little to pull Kurt into an effervescent kiss.

'Hey, Legolas, stop drooling all over Frodo, we wanna twerk with him!' Kitty shouted from across the room. Behind her Lauren whooped and held up a beer bottle, and Santana leaned over to clink her own against it.

Blaine couldn't see Kurt's face but he could _feel_ his eye-roll. 'She doing okay?'

Blaine nodded. 'Better, I think.' They all were, in fact, since Sebastian's court date for sentencing had passed a few weeks before. In the end the police had responded to an anonymous tip off (Blaine's eyes darted over to Santana, where she was grinding on the dance floor with Britt, her wife) and had found a staggering amount of drug paraphernalia in his apartment. It seemed he'd been dealing, as Kurt had feared, and so the sentence was custodial. They hoped it would be the opportunity for him to get the help he needed, but there was no denying that Seb being off the streets had been a relief for all of them. They could move on with their lives.

And moving on, they were, Blaine thought, feeling a pleased little hum vibrate from Kurt's chest through into his own, as he thumbed over the band of metal on Blaine's finger. Blaine smiled. He had a ring for Kurt, too, stashed away back home, and words of his own he wanted to say, but he couldn't have done it better himself, with the rose petals and his friends and family gathered around a staircase, and _'in every lifetime...'_

'I can't believe my dad's actually here.' Blaine breathed out, watching Katie lead her grandpa out onto the dance floor. 'I never thought I'd have this.'

Kurt kissed his hair. 'Well, I asked for his permission, so he's had some time to get used to the idea.'

Blaine felt his jaw drop. 'You did not!'

Kurt shrugged elegantly and smiled. 'I did, as it happens.'

'You asked him for my hand?' It was just about the most romantic thing Blaine had ever heard.

'Of course. I'm a gentleman.'

'I know.' And he did.

Blaine kissed him, holding his face close to try to express a gratitude and a love that was so overwhelming he simply didn't have the right words for it. The look in Kurt's eyes made him think maybe he'd managed to tell him anyway.

'Are _you_ okay? I know this has to be... bittersweet, for you.'

Kurt breath was warm on his neck. 'Yeah. My mom and dad... I miss them. But they would have loved you, I know they would. They would have been so happy for me, that I found you.'

They stood for a few minutes, watching the party happen around them, each appreciating the other's nearness. Then Kurt grinned the little impish grin that made Blaine's bones feel like liquid. 'You wanna twerk with your girls? I can stand here and, uh, guard your jacket...' He raised his eyebrows suggestively. 

Blaine laughed. 'Nah.' He wasn't ready to let Kurt go, yet. 'Hey... Let's sing together.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. It's all I wanted to do when I was fifteen years old, obsessing over you in your New Directions videos.' Blaine bit his lip, not having confessed his awkward teenage crush before.

Kurt paused, the arms around Blaine's waist tightening. 'You did that?'

Blaine snorted. 'Of course. You were hot.'

Kurt rested his chin on Blaine's shoulder. 'I was alone.'

Blaine pressed his face against the warmth of Kurt's neck and breathed him in. He smelled like citrus and amber and _home._ 'Not anymore.'

'No. Not anymore.' Kurt's fingers brushed over the ring again, the never-ending circle signifying their unbroken love and commitment, and Blaine felt the promise of it swelling in his chest. 'Not anymore.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's proposal is based on a Kiersten White quote (The Chaos of Stars) because it's beautiful and has echoes of Glee about it in a way that tied Blaine and Kurt together so perfectly it was impossible not to use it.
> 
> Thank you so, so much if you read this whole thing. I've so appreciated your feedback. I like to hope Jane Austen would have been gently, laughingly scandalised by this whole story.
> 
> Incidentally, Brooks Brothers navy-blazer-with-red-tie cufflinks do exist in the world, and that fact makes me extremely happy.


End file.
